THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

Rare  Book  Room 
GIFT  OF 

John  W.  Beckman 


. 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


HERBERT  ATHERTON, 


OR 


SOWING  BESIDE  ALL  WATERS 


BY   THE   AUTHOR   OF 

'WREATHS  AND  BEANCHES  FOR  THE  CHURCH," 
"CONSECRATED  TALENTS,"  &G. 


'  Where  the  little  brook  is  flowing, 
Where  the  mighty  river  rolls, 

Bless'd  are  ye,  in  patience  sowing, 
For  the  harvest  day  of  souls." 


NEW  YORK: 
<£en<  ;tfrot.  JJjpfscojpal  <S.  S,  Pinion   anTl 


DEPOSITORY     637      BROADWAY. 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853,  by  JOHN  W. 
MITCHELL  (as  Treasurer  of  the  Gen.  Prot.  Episcopal  S.  S.  Union  and  Church 
Book  Society),  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter. 

I. — Morning  Service  at  St.  Philip's  Church 6 

II. — The  Senior  Warden  and  his  Family 24 

IIL — Professional  Duties  and  Private  Feelings. 42 

IV. — The  World  and  the  Church 61 

V. — The  Unexpected  Meeting 76 

VI— An  Experiment 88 

VII. — A  Gleam  of  Sunshine 105 

VIII.— An  Experiment 120 

IX.— Disappointed  Hopes , 184 

X.— The  Widow's  Son 149 

XL — An  Invalid,  and  a  Voyage 166 

XII.— Convalescence 181 

XIII.— Holmwood  Rectory 194 


HERBERT  ATHERTON. 


CHAPTER  I. 

MORNING    SERVICE    AT    ST.  PHILIP'S    CHURCH. 

"  Within  the  Temple's  very  gates, 
We  hear  the  world's  tumultuous  roar." 

IT  was  a  pleasant  morning  in  May,  when  a 
young  man  of  interesting  appearance  paused  be 
fore  one  of  the  principal  churches  in  a  large  city. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  whether  there  will  be  service 
here  to-day  ?"  he  asked,  addressing  a  coachman, 
who  was  seated  upon  the  box  of  a  carriage  which 
was  standing  in  front  of  the  gate.  The  equipage 
was  one  of  uncommon  elegance, — a  low,  dark 
chariot  of  the  most  graceful  form,  drawn  by 
black  horses,  the  sombre  appearance  of  the  whole 
being  only  relieved  by  the  silver  mounting  of  the 
harness,  and  the  richly  cut  lanterns.  The  coach 
man  was  in  perfect  keeping,  being  an  undistin- 
guishable  mass  of  blackness,  excepting  the  broad 
silver  band  around  his  bell-crowned  hat.  His 
manner,  too,  was  an  attempt  at  superior  polite- 


6  HERBERT  ATHERTON. 

ness,  as  lie  said,  in  reply  to  the  inquiry  of  the 
stranger, 

"Certainly,  sir,  there  is  always  service  here 
every  day  at  eleven  o'clock ;"  and  it  was  evident 
that  he  belonged  to  some  family  who  considered 
it  a  virtue  to  be  well  posted  up  in  church  affairs. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  questioner  politely,  as 
he  entered  the  gate.  It  was  still  very  early,  for 
there  was  no  one  in  the  church  but  the  party 
that  had  just  alighted  from  the  carriage  without, 
and  the  sexton,  who  was  busy  in  removing  the 
benches,  with  which  he  had  barricaded  the  en 
trance  to  the  middle  aisle. 

"  How  provoking  I"  exclaimed  one  of  the  ladies, 
as  she  looked  at  an  elegant  little  watch,  to  which 
dozens  of  small  trinkets  were  suspended.  "It 
is  fifteen  minutes  to  eleven,  and  we  might  have 
spent  that  time  in  shopping,  instead  of  wasting 
it  here." 

The  light  tone  in  which  these  words  were 
spoken  evidently  grated  on  the  ear  of  the  new 
comer,  for  he  looked  after  the  tall  elegant  wo 
man,  as  she  walked  haughtily  up  the  aisle,  with 
a  glance  of  mingled  pity  and  disapprobation,  as 
if  he  thought  it  would  require  a  much  longer 
preparation  to  fit  her  heart  for  the  service  of  that 
God  who  must  be  worshipped  in  spirit  and  in 


HERBERT  ATHERTON.  7 

truth.  And  then,  turning  to  the  sexton,  he  said 
in  a  low  voice,  "  Will  you  have  the  kindness  to 
tell  the  clergyman  that  a  person  desires  to  re 
turn  thanks  for  recovery  from  sickness  ?  I  find 
that  I  have  dropped  the  notice  which  I  wrote  to 
that  effect." 

The  church  was  so  frequented  by  strangers, 
that  it  had  become  necessary  to  place  a  row  of 
seats  in  the  centre  of  each  aisle,  which  were  wide 
enough  for  the  accommodation  of  two  persons ; 
and  to  one  of  these,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
chancel,  the  young  man  slowly  directed  his  steps, 
and  kneeling  before  it  with  the  deepest  rever 
ence,  became  lost  in  devotion.  He  did  not 
notice  that  the  church  was  rapidly  filling,  or  that 
no  one  besides,  occupying  the  seats  in  the  aisle, 
assumed  the  posture  to  which  from  childhood 
he  had  become  accustomed.  He  only  felt  that 
after  months  of  trial  and  sickness,  he  was  again 
allowed  to  enter  the  house  of  his  heavenly  Father, 
which  anywhere  and  under  all  circumstances 
was  regarded  as  his  dearest  home.  When,  at 
last,  he  rose  from  his  knees  with  his  face  glow 
ing  with  emotion,  he  perceived  a  lad  of  about 
ten  years  old  standing  by  him,  who  said,  as  he 
held  the  door  of  an  adjacent  pew  open,  "  Mother 
wishes  to  know  if  you  will  sit  with  us.  The  seats 


8  HEKBEBT  ATHEKTON. 

are  more  comfortable,  and  there  is  plenty  of  room." 
The  offer  was  gratefully  accepted,  as  there  was 
only  a  middle-aged  lady  in  dark  mourning,  and 
two  little  girls  occupying  the  seat,  to  which  he 
was  so  kindly  invited. 

When  the  services  commenced,  a  clear,  deep 
voice  was  heard,  pitched  slightly  above  the  rest, 
and  occasionally  reading,  by  mistake,  some  of 
the  responses  of  the  clergyman,  as  if  the  speaker 
were  more  accustomed  to  leading,  than  joining 
in  the  devotions  of  a  congregation.  There  was 
a  deep  fervency  also  observable  in  the  manner 
in  which  he  pronounced  the  "Amen"  at  the  end 
of  each  prayer,  and  especially  of  that  for  re 
covery  from  sickness,  which  arrested  the  atten 
tion  of  the  lady  in  whose  pew  he  was  seated. 
When  the  services  were  over,  she  was  struck 
with  the  self-forgetfulness  apparent  in  the  length 
of  his  concluding  prayer,  and  wondered  what 
circumstances  gave  such  peculiar  earnestness  to 
the  stranger's  whole  manner  and  bearing. 

At  the  door  of  the  church,  the  young  man 
paused,  and  turning  to  his  courteous  hostess, 
thanked  her  gracefully  for  her  politeness,  and 
asked  if  she  could  inform  him  whether  Dr. 
Welford,  the  Rector  of  Christ  Church,  were  at 
in  the  cit? 


HEKBEKT  ATHEBTON.  9 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  do  not  know,"  she  re 
plied  ;  "  but  I  have  been  absent  from  town  for 
many  months,  and  only  came  back  yesterday." 
Her  face,  which  was  deeply  marked  by  sorrow, 
became  additionally  sad  at  these  words,  as  if 
melancholy  associations  were  attached  to  the 
absence  of  which  she  spoke,  but  she  added 
quickly,  "  Oh,  there  is  Mr.  Melville,  he  is  the 
senior  warden  of  Dr.  Welford's  church,  and  can 
give  you  any  information  with  regard  to  his 
movements  which  you  may  desire." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  clergyman  with  more 
warmth  than  the  occasion  seemed  exactly  to  de 
mand,  but  there  are  times  when  a  few  kind 
words  are  of  unspeakable  value. 

The  gentleman,  to  whom  his  attention  was 
directed  appeared  to  the  stranger  more  pretend 
ing  than  attractive.  He  was  a  tall  portly  man, 
with  gold  spectacles,  and  a  gold-headed  cane, 
and  his  self-complacent  face  was  slightly  rubi 
cund,  either  from  English  descent,  or  a  moderate 
indulgence  in  very  excellent  wine.  In  reply  to 
the  politely  uttered  question,  "  Can  you  tell  me, 
sir,  whether  Dr.  Welford  is  absent  from  home  ?" 

He  only  said  stiffly,  "  He  has  been  away  for 
two  months,  sir,"  without  deigning  to  glance  at 
the  interrogator. 


10  HERBERT  ATHERTON. 

"  Do  you  know  how  soon  he  may  be  expected 
to  return  ?"  asked  the  young  man,  without  seem 
ing  at  all  annoyed  by  the  haughtiness  of  his 
companion. 

"  Not  for  some  time,"  replied  Mr.  Melville,  in 
the  same  cool  tone,  adding,  "  Excuse  me,  sir,  I 
am  in  haste.  The  sexton  will  give  you  any  fur 
ther  information  which  you  may  desire." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  was  the  reply,  in  a 
peculiarly  gentle,  yet  self-respectful  voice.  "  I  was 
told  that  you  were  the  senior  warden  of  this 
church,  and  concluded  that  you  would  be  able 
to  give  me  the  most  reliable  intelligence  with  re 
gard  to  its  rector." 

For  the  first  time,  Mr.  Melville  glanced  towards 
his  companion,  and  his  manner  in  an  instant 
changed ;  for  he  saw,  at  once,  that  he  was  a 
gentleman  and  a  clergyman.  "  You  must  excuse 
me,  sir,"  he  said,  "  but  we  are  so  often  pestered 
by  inquisitive  strangers,  that  I  have  got  in  the 
way  of  answering  very  abruptly.  Dr.  "Welford 
went  to  Europe  in  March,  and  will  not  return 
till  August.  I  presume  he  is  an  acquaintance  of 
yours  ?" 

"  A  very  dear  friend,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  I 
cannot  express  my  disappointment  at  finding  him 
absent  from  the  city." 


HERBERT  ATHERTON.  11 

"  Will  you  tell  me,  sir,  your  name,  that  I  may 
inform  him  on  his  return  of  your  regret  at  not 
meeting  him  here  ?"  asked  Mr.  Melville. 

"  Herbert  Atherton,"  said  the  stranger,  mod 
estly. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Melville.  "Then  you 
are  the  gentleman  whose  fine  sermons  have  re 
cently  been  going  the  rounds  of  the  church 
papers.  I  am  happy  to  make  your  acquaint 
ance." 

The  compliment  was  only  acknowledged  by  a 
faint  smile.  As  they  were  now  at  the  gate,  be 
fore  which  the  chariot  was  standing,  which  Mr. 
Atherton  had  noticed  on  entering  the  church,  Mr. 
Melville  said  hastily, 

"  I  must  bid  you  good  morning,  sir,  for  my 
wife  and  children  are  waiting  for  me  to  drive 
with  them  to  a  matinee,  to  which  they  are  en 
gaged.  Here  is  my  card,  and  I  wish  you  would 
waive  all  ceremony  and  dine  with  me  to-mor 
row." 

"  If  my  health  will  permit,  I  will  do  so  with 
pleasure,"  rejoined  Mr.  Atherton ;  and  then  Mr. 
Melville  took  his  seat  in  the  most  unexception 
able  of  carriages,  and  with  a  polite  bow  drove 
off. 

The  vounsr  clergrvrnan  followed  the  retreatin^ 


12  HERBERT   ATHERTOH. 

vehicle  with  a  thoughtful  eye,  for  a  vision  passed 
before  his  mind  of  our  Saviour's  entrance  into 
Jerusalem,  and  the  humility  which  marked  his 
earthly  condition.  Luxury  was  peculiarly  grate 
ful  to  his  own  refined  taste,  but  he  had  been  led 
to  think  that  Christian  self-denial  required  the 
renunciation  of  much  that  was  pleasing  to  the 
carnal  man,  and  involuntarily  murmuring,  "  the 
servant  is  not  above  his  Lord,"  he  slowly  walked 
away  in  an  opposite  direction.  Yet,  ten  minutes 
afterwards,  Herbert  Atherton  entered  a  shop  re 
splendent  with  magnificent  articles  of  jewelry, 
and  thronged  with  admiring  customers.  But  it 
was  not  as  a  purchaser  that  he  went  thither ;  on  the 
contrary,  he  wished  to  dispose  of  the  only  article 
of  much  value  that  he  possessed  in  the  world. 

"  Will  you  tell  me,  sir,"  he  asked,  addressing 
the  oldest  man  behind  Mr.  Walker's  counter, 
"  what  is  the  value  of  this  watch,"  handing  him 
at  the  same  time  a  plain,  but  most  excellent,  re 
peater. 

"  It  is  a  very  fine  watch,"  replied  Mr.  Walker, 
examining  the  works  with  evident  satisfaction ; 
"  it  is  fully  worth  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars." 

"  Could  you  loan  me,  then,  that  sum  upon  it  f' 
asked  Mr.  Atherton  in  a  low  tone,  but  without 
nny  appearance  of  mortification. 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  13 

"  We  do  not  keep  a  pawn-broker's  shop,"  were 
the  words  which  rose  to  Mr.  Walker's  lips,  but  a 
second  glance  at  the  stranger  prevented  their  ut 
terance.  "  You  are  a  clergyman,  sir,  are  you 
not  ?"  he  asked,  in  some  surprise. 

"I  am,"  he  replied;  "and  have  been  very  ill 
among  strangers,"  he  added  in  a  tone  of  deep 
sadness. 

"  Then  take  back  your  watch,  sir :  I  will  lend 
you  the  sum  you  wish  without  any  such  pledge : 
your  profession  is  a  sufficient  guarantee  for  your 
honesty,  and  I  shall  be  happy  to  oblige  you." 

Mr.  Atherton  did  not  extend  his  hand  for  the 
repeater,  but  said,  "  JSTo,  no,  keep  it,  for  I  am 
still  very  unwell,  and  do  not  know  what  may  hap 
pen  to  me." 

"  Well !  remember  it  is  subject  to  your  order 
at  any  time,"  said  Mr.  Walker,  kindly. — "  Here, 
take  this  seat,  while  I  make  out  a  check  for  the 
sum  you  wish.  There  is  no  hurry  about  return 
ing  it :  keep  it  as  a  gift  if  you  cannot  repay  it  as 
a  loan." 

"  From  my  heart  I  thank  you,"  was  the  warm 
reply,  as  Herbert  took  the  proffered  check,  and 
giving  Mr.  Walker  his  card,  in  return,  left  the 
shop. 

While  this  conversation  was  taking  place,  the 


14:  HERBKKT    ATHEETON. 

same  lady  who  had  offered  a  seat  to  the  stranger 
was  standing  at  a  counter  opposite,  and  examin 
ing  some  mourning  brooches.  A  few  words  only 
had  reached  her  ears ;  but  the  moment  the  door 
of  the  shop  closed,  she  stepped  to  Mr.  Walker 
and  desired  to  know  the  name  of  that  pale,  inter 
esting  man.  He  handed  her  the  card,  and  the 
instant  that  she  saw  the  name,  she  turned  to  her 
little  son,  and  said  with  much  emotion,  "  Frank, 
that  was  Mr.  Atherton,  who  was  so  kind  to  your 
dear  father ;  run  after  him,  and  say  that  I  wish 
to  speak  to  him  directly." 

The  lady  had  hardly  recovered  her  self-com 
mand  when  Frank  returned  with  Mr.  Atherton, 
who  looked  inquiringly  towards  her,  as  if  won 
dering  what  could  be  her  will. 

"  Mr.  Atherton,"  she  said  with  great  agitation, 
"  my  name  is  Waterford,  and  Mr.  George  Water- 
ford,  whom  you  knew  in  Havana,  was  my-—" 

She  could  say  no  more ;  but  Mr.  Atherton 
easily  divined  the  remainder  of  the  sentence,  and 
extended  his  hand  towards  her  with  an  expression 
of  deep  sympathy. 

"  Let  me  drive  you  to  your  lodging,"  she  con 
tinued,"  for  you  look  very  feeble,  and  on  our  way 
thither,  I  can  say  what  I  wish.  Frank,  tell  the 
coachman  to  draw  up  to  the  pavement," 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  15 

Mr.  Atherton  was  too  sensible  of  his  own  in 
creasing  weakness  to  refuse  this  kind  offer,  and 
followed  his  new  friend  to  an  unpretending  look 
ing  carriage  which  was  in  attendance,  and  where 
her  two  little  girls  were  already  seated. 

'*  Where  shall  I  set  you  down  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Waterford,  as  the  coachman  stood  waiting  for 
orders. 

"  At  the  Marine  Hotel,  Water-street,"  he  re 
plied  in  a  faint  tone,  for  his  strength  was  rapidly 
giving  way. 

"  Marine  Hotel !  where  is  that  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Waterford,  with  some  surprise,  and  then  added 
quickly,  "  Have  you  any  friends  there  with  you, 
or  any  lady  who  will  take  care  of  you  on  your 
return?" 

"  No,  I  am  alone,  all  alone,"  he  answered 
mournfully,  for  illness  rendered  him  keenly  alive 
to  his  own  desolate  condition. 

"  Home,  James,  drive  directly  home,"  said  the 
lady,  with  sudden  resolution.  "  You  must  con 
sent  to  be  my  prisoner,"  she  said,  turning  kindly 
to  the  poor  invalid  ;  "  it  would  be  an  unchristian 
act  to  lose  sight  of  any  one  to  whom  I  am  under 
such  obligations,  without  being  sure  that  they 
would  be  properly  attended  to :  you  must  posi 
tively  be  very  quiet  for  the  present." 


16  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

Mr.  Atherton  could  only  smile  his  thanks  ;  but 
he  felt  indescribably  relieved  at  the  idea  that  some 
one  was  taking  charge  of  him,  and  carrying  him 
to  a  private  dwelling. 

Not  another  word  was  said  till  the  carriage 
stopped  at  the  door  of  a  large,  but  plain-looking 
house,  in  a  retired  part  of  the  city. 

"  Now,  get  out  first,  Frank,"  said  Mrs.  Water- 
ford,  "  and  hold  the  horses  for  James,  so  that  he 
can  come  and  help  Mr.  Atherton  up  the  steps, 
for  I  see  he  is  perfectly  exhausted." 

Frank  obeyed  instantly,  and  James,  who 
seemed  to  have  imbibed  the  spirit  of  his  mistress, 
tenderly  assisted  the  young  man  into  the  house, 
and  laid  him  gently  on  a  couch  in  one  corner  of 
a  large,  comfortable-looking  parlor.  His  energies 
were  so  completely  prostrated  by  a  long  illness, 
that  he  felt  nothing  but  an  indefinite  sense  of  re 
lief  at  being  so  kindly  cared  for,  and  hardly 
moved  till  he  heard  a  pleasant  voice  saying, 

"  Here,  Mr.  Atherton,  take  this  glass  of  wine, 
and  try  and  swallow  a  biscuit :  you  need  some 
refreshment." 

Thus  incited,  he  took  slowly  the  mild  Port 
which  Mrs.  Waterford  offered,  and  then  falling 
back  upon  the  couch,  dropped  into  a  sweet  sleep, 
from  which  he  did  not  awake  for  some  hours. 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  r< 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  Waterford  saw  that  her  guest 
was  peacefully  slumbering,  she  threw  a  warm 
shawl  over  him,  and  going  into  the  next  room, 
which  was  occupied  as  a  library,  summoned  the 
coachman  thither,  and  sent  him  to  the  Marine 
Hotel,  with  orders  to  bring  back  every  thing  there 
that  belonged  to  Mr.  Atherton.  He  returned  in 
half  an  hour,  with  a  countenance  of  extreme  mor 
tification,  and  informed  her  that  the  hotel-keeper 
had  called  Mr.  Atherton  a  swindler,  and  would 
not  let  him  have  any  of  his  clothes  till  his  bill 
was  fully  paid. 

"Poor  fellow,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Waterford, 
with  an  expression  of  sincere  pity,  and  then  she 
seemed  lost  in  deep  thought.  "Call  Frank 
here,"  she  said  at  length  ;  and  when  her  son  ap 
peared,  she  told  him  that  he  must  go  with  James 
back  to  the  Marine  Hotel,  and  attend  to  some 
business  for  her  there  as  well  as  he  possibly 
could. 

'  You  know  you  are  my  only  reliance  now, 
Frank,"  she  said  sadly  ;  "and  you  must  learn  to 
be  of  use.  Ask  the  hotel-keeper  politely  for  Mr. 
Atherton's  account ;  then  take  this  blank  check, 
and  fill  it  up  with  the  sum  total  of  the  bill  ren~ 
dered  ;  next  ask  him  to,  give  you  a  receipt,  and 
every  thing  belonging  to  Mr.  Atherton,  and  hand 


18  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

him  the  check  in  return.  You  must  not  get  an- 
gry  if  he  speaks  disrespectfully  of  your  father's 
friend,  for  he  does  not  know  what  an  excellent 
man  he  is." 

Frank  readily  promised  to  do  just  what  his 
mother  wished,  for  he  was  very  ambitious  of  being 
considered  her  protector,  and  fitted  by  nature  to 
become  such  in  reality.  He  returned  in  an  hour 
accompanied  by  James,  bringing  back  in  triumph 
all  Mr.  Atherton's  luggage,  which  was  immediate- 
ly  placed  in  the  convenient  room  which  had  been, 
in  the  mean  time,  prepared  for  his  reception. 

"  E"ow,  Frank,"  said  his  mother,  "  go  gently  to 
the  parlor,  and  sit  there  quietly  till  Mr.  Atherton 
awakes,  and  then,  if  he  is  strong  enough  to  walk, 
show  him  to  his  room  ;  but  if  not,  call  Peter  to 
give  him  his  arm." 

"  Or  help  him  myself,"  said  Frank,  with  quite 
an  important  air. 

The  young  lad  had  been  reading  beside  the 
sleeping  invalid  for  nearly  an  hour,  when  he  un 
closed  his  eyes,  and  looking  around,  he  dreamily 
asked, 

"  "Who  are  you,  my  little  boy,  and  where  am 
I?" 

"  I  am  Frank  Waterford,  sir,"  he  said  eagerly, 
"  and  you  are  in  my  mother's  house,  where  every  • 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  19 

body  loves  you,  because  you  were  kind  to  dear 
papa  when  he  was  so  ill." 

"Ah!  I  remember  now,"  said  the  stranger, 
with  returning  animation,  and  then  closing  his 
eyes,  thanked  the  God  of  all  goodness  for  provi 
ding  him  with  so  pleasant  an  asylum. 

Frank  did  not  like  to  disturb*  him,  for  his  face 
had  a  very  solemn  expression,  and  his  lips  moved 
involuntarily,  as  he  uttered  his  heartfelt  thanks 
giving. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  Frank,  as  the  visitor  again 
unclosed  his  eyes,  "  will  you  go  to  your  room  ?" 

Mr.  Atherton  looked  as  if  he  were  almost  un 
willing  to  move,  for  fear  he  should  break  the 
charm,  but  a  moment  after  he  rose  with  some  ef 
fort,  and  followed  Frank  to  the  pleasant-looking 
apartment  which  he  was  requested  to  consider  as 
his  own. 

The  little  boy  closed  the  door  behind  him, 
when  Mr.  Atherton  discovered  that  all  his  lug 
gage  had  been  transported  thither,  and  saw  upon 
the  table  the  receipted  bill  for  his  expenses  at  the 
hotel.  No  mortification  followed  this  discovery  ; 
for,  though  most  independent  in  spirit,  the  young 
clergyman  felt  that  there  was  nothing  in  his 
present  condition  for  which  he  ought  to  blush, 
as  it  was  the  result  of  providential  circumstances, 


20  HERBERT    ATHKRTON. 

over  which  he  had  no  control.  What  an  exem 
plification  was  here  of  the  truth  of  the  promise, 
"  Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters,  and  thou  shalt 
find  it  after  many  days  !" 

Two  years  since,  Mr.  "Waterford  had  arrived 
in  Havana,  sick  and  a  stranger.  Mr.  Atherton 
was  introduced  to  his  acquaintance  by  their  mu 
tual  friend,  Dr.  Welford,  and  had  nursed  him 
through  a  long  and  painful  illness,  with  all  the 
tenderness  of  a  brother.  His  only  fear  now  was 
that  his  kind  hostess  might  inconvenience  herself 
by  her  recent  generosity;  but  he  remembered 
that  his  late  friend  was  thought  to  be  a  gentle 
man  of  wealth,  and  every  thing  about  the  estab 
lishment  bespoke  comfort  and  ease,  though  per- 
fectly  free  from  all  attempt  at  display. 

The  grateful  stranger  could  find  no  rest  till  he 
had  poured  out  his  feelings  in  prayer  to  Him  to 
whom  his  joys  and  sorrows,  hopes  and  fears,  were 
always  confided  with  child-like  simplicity.  When 
he  had  thus  relieved  his  burdened  heart,  he 
descended  to  the  parlor  with  a  countenance 
beaming  with  gratitude  and  contentment.  Mrs. 
Waterford  advanced  to  meet  him,  looking  much 
delighted  at  the  change  in  his  appearance. 

"  I  should  be  overwhelmed  by  my  obligations 
to  you,"  he  said  warmly,  as  he  took  her  offered 


HERBERT   ATHEKTON.  21 

hand,  "if  I  did  not  remember  the  words  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  how  he  said,  '  it  is  more  bless 
ed  to  give  than  to  receive.'  I  am  sure  that  what 
you  have  done  for  me  this  day  has  filled  your 
heart  with  the  purest  satisfaction." 

"Indeed.it  has,"  she  replied  with  earnest  sin 
cerity.  "  Nothing  has  given  me  so  much  pleas 
ure  for  many  months.  But  how  long  have  you 
been  in  the  city,  and  why  did  you  not  make 
known  your  arrival  to  some  of  the  clergy  who  are 
already  well  acquainted  with  you  by  reputation  ?" 

"  Because  I  was  taken  ill  the  very  night  of  my 
arrival.  I  had  been  settled  in  Havana  three 
years,  when  my  health  gave  way,  and  the  physi 
cians  prescribed  a  more  bracing  climate,  as  my 
only  hope.  They  agreed  that  the  latitude  of  this 
city  would  be  more  favorable,  and  I  wrote  to 
Dr.  Welford  to  inquire  whether  he  thought  I 
could  be  useful  in  his  vicinity.  He  informed  me 
in  reply,  that  there  was  no  doubt  of  my  obtain 
ing  immediate  occupation,  either  in  preaching, 
teaching,  or  editorship,  and  thus  encouraged,  I 
resolved  to  make  the  experiment.  For  economy's 
sake,  I  took  passage  in  a  merchant  ship,  which 
had  a  long  and  tedious  passage ;  and  for  the 
same  reason,  I  engaged  a  room  at  the  Marine 
Hotel.  I  had  been  in  the  city  only  a  few  hours 


22  HERBERT  ATHERTON. 

when  I  felt  the  symptoms  of  a  violent  fever,  and 
before  midnight,  was  quite  out  of  my  senses. 
The  captain  of  the  vessel,  who  was  lodging  at 
the  same  house,  showed  me  the  most  devoted 
attention,  while  he  remained  ;  but  he  was  obliged 
to  sail  in  about  three  weeks,  and  could  only  com 
mend  me  to  the  care  of  two  old  sailors,  who 
nursed  rne  most  faithfully  during  the  remainder 
of  my  illness.  Yesterday,  for  the  first  time,  I 
left  my  room  to  offer  my  thanksgiving  for  the 
mercy  vouchsafed  to  me,  and  to  try  and  discover 
Dr.  Welford's  residence.  The  rest  of  my  busi 
ness  you  must  have  learned,  and  I  think  you 
will  allow  me  to  transfer  to  you  Mr.  Walker's 
check,  in  return  for  the  sum  you  have  just  ex 
pended  in  my  behalf." 

"  I  shall  do  no  such  thing,"  she  replied  warm 
ly.  "  Are  you  going  to  cheat  me  of  the  pleasure 
which  you  acknowledged  I  manifested  in  per 
forming  that  little  act?  Frank  shall  take  the 
check  back  to  Mr.  Walker,  and  bring  your 
watch,  for  it  is  an  article  which  a  gentleman 
misses  every  hour.  No  thanks !  Remember  I 
am  only  paying  my  just  debts,  and  allow  me  to 
consider  you  as  my  oldest  son  for  the  present. 
Here  comes  Peter  to  summon  us  to  dinner. 
You  must  need  something  more  substantial,  and 


HERBERT  ATHERTON.  23 

by  and  by  you  shall  tell  me  all  that  I  wish  to 
know,  with  regard  to  your  past  history,  and 
your  connection  with  iny  lamented  husband." 

Mr.  Atherton  was  incapable  of  replying.  The 
tears  which  filled  his  eyes  were  not  unbecoming 
a  man,  for  they  bespoke  the  gratitude  of  a  noble 
heart. 


24.  HKRBERT  ATHERTOSN 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    SENIOR   WARDEN    AND    HIS    FAMILY. 

"Look  ye,  brethren,  choose  ye  out 

Holy  men  of  good  report, 
Filled  with  wisdom,  zeal,  and  grace, 

These  shall  serve  the  outer  court. '* 


THE  night  succeeding  the  events  related  in  the 
last  chapter,  Herbert  Atherton  dreamed  of  his 
departed  mother.  He  thought  that  she  stole 
gently  to  his  bed,  and  whispered  in  tones  of 
silvery  clearness,  "  Keep  thyself  unspotted  from 
the  world."  She  had  died  when  he  was  very- 
young,  and  since  that  time,  he  had  been  quite 
unused  to  feminine  care  and  tenderness;  and 
that  which  he  was  now  receiving  touched  his 
very  heart.  On  going  down  stairs  the  following 
morning,  the  young  clergyman  found  the  family 
assembled  for  prayers.  Mrs.  Waterford  con 
gratulated  him  warmly  on  the  beneficial  effects 
of  the  night's  rest,  and  then  requested  him  to 
conduct  their  usual  devotions.  He  consented  to 
do  so  with  glad  alacrity,  for  to  pray  with  those 
he  loved  was  one  of  his  sweetest  pleasures  ;  and 


HERBERT  ATHERTON.  25 

he  never  felt  that  any  friendship  was  complete 
till  it  had  been  thus  cemented.  There  was  a 
beautiful  solemnity  in  his  manner  of  conducting 
such  exercises,  from  his  entire  forgetfulness  of 
any  presence,  save  that  of  his  Maker,  and  even 
the  children  were  unconsciously  impressed  with 
his  deep  sincerity.  When  he  had  finished,  in 
stead  of  feeling  as  if  they  were  removed  farther 
from  him  by  his  ministerial  office,  they  were 
irresistibly  drawn  to  his  side.  Little,  curly- 
haired  Fanny,  the  youngest  child,  was  quite 
ready  to  sit  on  his  knee,  if  Mrs.  Waterford  had 
not  insisted  that  she  should  not  presume  so  far 
on  the  kindness  of  a  recent  invalid,  and  Mary 
put  her  arms  around  his  neck,  as  confidingly  as 
if  it  had  been  her  mother's. 

How  pleasant  and  home-like  that  library  with 
its  caressing  inmates  seemed  to  the  lonely 
stranger,  and  how  different  from  the  dreary 
room  which  he  had  occupied  for  so  many  weeks  ! 

When  the  informal  breakfast  was  over,  Mrs. 
Waterford  said  with  politeness,  "Do  not  wait 
for  me,  but  go  into  the  library  and  entertain 
yourself,  Mr.  Atherton.  I  always  superintend 
the  putting  away  of  these  things,  but  I  will  be 
with  you  in  half  an  hour." 

"  You  will  think  it  droll,  perhaps,"  said  Her- 


26  HERBERT  ATHERTON; 

bert,  half  laughing,  "  if  I  ask  to  stay  and  watch 
your  operations  ;  but  I  can't  help  wishing  to  do 
so.  If  you  will  only  let  me  sit  down  in  that 
comfortable  chair  and  chat  with  you,  while  you 
are  thus  employed,  it  would  be  a  real  pleasure. 
I  have  lived  so  much  in  boarding-houses  that  I 
have  seen  little  of  domestic  life,  and  though 
often  visiting  in  private  families,  I  do  not  think 
I  ever  saw  any  one  perform  this  little  feminine 
duty  but  my  mother." 

The  last  words  were  uttered  in  a  sadder  tone, 
and  Mrs.  Waterford  immediately  replied  cordi 
ally,  "  Do  so  by  all  means :  I  like  some  one  to 
chat  with  me  while  my  hands  are  thus  occu 
pied.  You  may  run  up  stairs,  children.  Don't 
get  so  fond  of  Mr.  Atherton  that  you  are  never 
willing  to  leave  him." 

The  children  did,  indeed,  appear  quite  reluc 
tant  to  tear  themselves  away  from  their  new 
friend ;  but  they  were  accustomed  to  implicit  obe 
dience,  and  left  without  a  murmur* 

"  I  half  engaged  to  dine  with  the  Mr.  Melville 
whom  you  pointed  out  to  me.  "Was  it  yester 
day? — it  seems  to  me  much  longer." 

"  It  does,  indeed^"  said  the  lady,  "  but  our 
long  talk,  last  evening,  has  made  us  feel  like  old 
friends.  When  the  heart's  inmost  recesses  have 


HERBERT  ATHERTON.  27 

been  opened  to  another,  it  can  never  again  be 
closed.  There  is  a  tie  between  us,  which  ought 
to  make  us  forget  that  we  were  ever  stran 
gers." 

"I  will  try  and  remember  it  no  more,"  was 
Herbert's  grateful  reply,  "I  wish  you  had 
known  my  mother,"  he  said,  after  a  slight  pause ; 
"  she  was  the  purest  of  spirits.  My  father  died 
when  I  was  only  a  year  old ;  and  while  she  lived 
I  was  rarely  out  of  her  sight.  I  never  knew  her 
to  do  any  act,  merely  because  it  was  customary, 
of  which  her  conscience  did  not  approve;  and 
she  formed  her  own  opinion  on  every  subject, 
with  no  other  guide  but  that  Spirit  which  she 
daily  implored  to  give  her  a  c  right  judgment  in 
all  things.' " 

This  observation  gave  Mrs.  "Waterford  a  clue 
to  the  uncommon  directness  and  single-minded- 
ness  of  the  young  clergyman,  but  she  only  ob 
served,  "  The  memory  of  such  a  mother  is  the 
most  precious  of  legacies." 

"  It  is  my  only  inheritance,"  he  replied  warmly, 
"  and  I  would  not  exchange  it  for  all  this  world 
could  give." 

There  was  a  pause  in  the  conversation  for  a 
few  moments,  while  Mrs.  Waterford  gave  some 
orders  to  the  servant,  and  placed  the  table  silver 


28  HEEBEET   ATHEETON. 

in  a  large  wicker  basket,  which  was  its  usual 
resting  place. 

"  How  happened  it,"  she  asked  abruptly,  as  if 
the  question  had  just  entered  her  mind,  "  that 
Mr.  Melville  asked  you  to  dine  there  to-day  ? 
He  must  have  known  something  of  you  pre 
viously,  or  he  would  not  have  ventured  upon 
such  a  step." 

"He  was  aware  that  I  was  a  friend  of  Dr. 
Welford's.  Does  he  live  far  from  here  ?" 

"  Quite  a  distance,"  she  replied ;  "  but  I  have 
to  drive  up  town,  and  can  set  you  down  with 
the  greatest  ease.  He  will  not  dine  till  six 
o'clock." 

"Was  the  gayly-dressed  person  that  I  saw 
with  him  yesterday  his  wife?"  asked  Herbert. 
"  She  did  not  look  to  me  like  a  serious-minded 
woman." 

Mrs.  "Waterford  was  tempted  to  smile  at  the 
simplicity  of  the  question,  which  seemed  to  im 
ply  that  no  church  officer  would  have  any  but  a 
sober-minded  wife;  while  in  reality  Mrs.  Mel 
ville  was  at  the  head  of  fashion. 

"She  is  not  what  you  would  call  so,  I  pre 
sume,"  she  replied.  "  He  married  an  heiress, 
and  ever  since  she  has  been  so  prospered  in  this 
world,  that  I  fear  she  rarely  thinks  of  the  next." 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  29 

"  Poor  woman  !"  exclaimed  Herbert.  "  Of  all 
the  empty  phantoms  that  mortals  pursue,  fashion 
seems  to  me  the  most  unsatisfactory." 

"Now  I  have  done,"  said  Mrs.  Waterford, 
taking  up  her  little  basket  of  keys  from  the  table, 
"  and  many  thanks  for  your  company.  Perhaps 
you  will  farther  assist  me  by  hearing  part  of 
Frank's  morning  lesson." 

"Gladly,"  he  replied,  appreciating  the  deli 
cacy  which  wished  to  make  him  feel  that  he 
was  of  use,  to  free  him  from  the  sense  of  depend 
ence. 

It  was  nearly  live  o'clock  when  Mrs.  Water- 
ford's  carriage  stopped  before  a  large  double- 
house,  with  a  Gothic  front  of  fine  granite. 

"This  is  Mr.  Melville's  residence,"  she  said, 
"and  here,  I  suppose,  we  must  part.  Come 
home  early,  so  that  we  may  have  another  nice 
talk  to-night,"  she  added,  as  the  coachman  let 
down  the  steps. 

"  I  am  sure  that  I  shall  be  almost  impatient  to 
return  to  your  hospitable  roof,"  he  replied,  as  he 
alighted  from  the  carriage. 

A  waiter,  in  elegant  livery,  answered  the  bell, 
and  ushered  the  visitor  into  a  spacious  library, 
where  his  host  was  awaiting  him. 

Mr.  Melville  received  his  visitor  as  politely  as 

3* 


30  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

a  person  could  do  who  was  completely  engrossed 
with  himself. 

After  the  customary  greetings  had  been  ex 
changed,  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  condescension, 

"  I  am  so  sorry  that  I  could  not  have  given 
you  an  opportunity  of  making  the  acquaintance 
of  our  Bishop  to-day,  but  it  was  quite  impossible. 
He  had  two  confirmations  and  a  funeral  to  attend, 
and  could  not  be  home  till  late  in  the  evening.  I 
am  very  sorry,  for  he  is  a  nice  fellow." 

This  last  epithet  did  not  seem  to  Mr.  Atherton 
exactly  proper  to  be  applied  to  a  "reverend 
father  in  God,"  especially  one  whose  dignity  of 
character  would  have  seemed  to  have  distanced 
all  familiarity.  He,  however,  only  replied, 

"  I  should  like  to  make  his  acquaintance,  for  I 
hear  that  his  praise  is  in  all  the  churches." 

"  Certainly,  certainly,  of  course,"  said  Mr. 
Melville,  going  on  with  his  own  train  of  thought. 
"And  there's  "Wykoff:  I  wanted  you  to  meet 
him;  but  he  had  a  baptism  on  hand,  and  could 
not  come.  He's  a  capital  fellow.  But  Twining 
beat's  them  all.  How  you  would  like  him !  He 
is  rather  on  stilts  in  the  pulpit,  but  comes  down 
wonderfully  at  a  social  dinner." 

Mr.  Atherton  thought  he  should  prefer  to  see 
him  at  his  pulpit  elevation.  The  mode  in  which 


HERBERT    ATHEKTON.  31 

his  brethren  were  mentioned  was  very  repulsive 
to  his  taste,  and  he  made  an  effort  to  change  the 
conversation.  The  attempt,  however,  was  quite 
unavailing.  Bishops,  priests,  and  deacons  were 
to  Mr.  Melville  the  nobility  of  the  land ;  and  to 
show  his  familiarity  with  them  was  the  whole 
end  and  aim  of  hie  conversation.  He  launched 
into  a  series  of  anecdotes,  all  tending  to  illustrate 
the  confidential  terms  which  existed  between 
himself  and  certain  prominent  divines,  inter 
spersed  with  jokes,  which,  if  perpetrated  by 
clergymen,  must  have  given  them  matter  for 
subsequent  repentance.  He  wound  up  with  a 
grand  glorification  of  the  Church  and  her  minis 
ters  in  general,  and  of  that  which  he  attended, 
and  Dr.  "Welford  in  particular.  His  hearer  re 
membered  that  our  heavenly  Father  may  be 
sometimes  more  "  honored  by  a  religious  silence 
than  by  religious  speaking ;"  and  this  seemed  to 
him  one  of  these  occasions.  He  made  no  reply 
to  this  pompous  harangue,  but  asked  some 
questions  with  regard  to  an  entirely  different 
subject. 

The  senior  warden  had  been  too  much  accus 
tomed  to  blowing  the  ecclesiastical  trumpet  to 
pause  long  for  want  of  breath.  He  answered 
his  visitor's  question  very  concisely,  and  then 


32  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

launched  into  a  dissertation  on  church  architec 
ture,  in  which  he  was  very  fluent,  being  well 
posted  up  in  the  cost  of  every  edifice  which  had 
recently  been  built,  and  being  fully  persuaded 
that  the  one  in  which  he  worshipped  was  the 
greatest  triumph  that  the  art  had  ever  achieved. 
He  had  the  most  singular  faculty  of  viewing  the 
externals  of  religion,  without  the  slightest  refer 
ence  to  its  spirit,  and  appeared  never  once  to 
have  thought  that  the  glory  of  God's  temple  was 
the  shekinah  within. 

At  the  next  pause  in  the  conversation,  Mr. 
Atherton  took  a  volume  from  the  table,  and  re 
marked  on  the  richness  of  the  binding  and  the 
number  of  the  illustrations.  He  was  surprised 
to  find  that  so  much  taste  had  been  lavished  on 
a  work  of  very  inferior  merit ;  but  all  Mr.  Mel 
ville's  favorite  books  were  more  distinguished 
for  their  execution  than  their  contents.  His 
library,  however,  was  not  all  composed  of  similar 
works,  but  contained  many  rare  and  excellent 
theological  treatises,  to  which  his  clerical  friends 
were  made  welcome. 

After  some  discourse,  in  which  he  showed 
great  familiarity  with  the  names  of  authors,  pub- 
lishers,  and  tables  of  contents,  Mr.  Melville  as 
sured  Mr.  Atherton  that  his  whole  collection 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  33 

was  quite  at  his  service,  and  begged  to  send  him 
any  volume  which  he  might  select. 

"  I  always  keep  a  circulating  library,"  he  said, 
with  evident  satisfaction,  "and  buy  books  for 
the  reading  of  my  friends.  But  you  look  fa 
tigued.  Don't  stand  up  any  longer.  Here  is  a 
catalogue  which  you  can  look  over  at  your  leis 
ure.  Would  not  you  like  to  go  up  stairs  and  lie 
down?  It  still  lacks  half  an  hour  of  dinner 
time,  and  you  could  take  a  refreshing  little  nap. 
Or,  perhaps,  you  had  rather  lounge  on  this 

couch,  which  Bishop  N calls  my  '  bed  of 

down.'" 

Mr*  Atherton  gladly  accepted  this  offer,  for  he 
was  much  exhausted, — more,  perhaps,  by  the  con 
versation  of  his  companion,  than  by  previous 
fatigue.  Mr.  Melville  saw  that  he  was  quite 
comfortable,  and  then  excusing  himself,  left  him 
to  his  meditations. 

Herbert  could  not  sleep,  for  his  mind  was 
always  ruffled  by  intercourse  with  this  species  of 
men.  He  disliked  to  hear  eminence  in  the 
Church  spoken  of,  as  if  it  conferred  worldly  dig 
nity,  remembering  that  our  Saviour  promised  to 
his  disciples  no  exaltation  on  earth  but  to  drink 
of  his  cup,  and  be  baptized  with  his  baptism. 
The  very  air  of  the  richly  furnished  apartment 


34  HERBERT 

seemed  to  him  oppressive,  and  he  would  willingly 
have  exchanged  it  for  the  dreary  chamber  where 
he  had  passed  so  many  tedious  weeks.  Minister 
ing  angels  had  come  thither  to  comfort  him ;  bnt 
it  seemed  as  if  they  could  not  enter  a  place  of 
which  the  god  of  this  world  had  taken  such  full 
possession. 

The  young  clergyman  knew  that  he  erred  in 
allowing  his  spirit  to  become  thus  overclouded. 
He  repeated  the  words  of  the  Psalmist,  "  Thou 
shalt  hide  them  privily  by  thy  presence  from  the 
provoking  of  all  men,"  and  fervently  prayed 
that  such  a  portion  of  God's  Spirit  might  be 
given  him,  as  to  keep  him  from  irritation  at 
human  weakness  and  folly.  His  mind  grew 
calm,  and  when  Mr.  Melville  returned,  no  cloud 
remained  upon  his  high,  fair  brow,  or  darkened 
his  lofty  soul. 

"Mrs.  Melville  has  been  chiding  me  for  keep 
ing  you  to  myself,"  said  the  host,  courteously. 
"  So  I  must  take  you  forthwith  to  the  drawing- 
room." 

In  passing  through  the  wide  hall,  the  guest 
was  struck  with  the  loftiness  of  its  ceiling,  the 
rich  gilding  of  the  immense  chandeliers,  and  the 
beauty  of  the  tesselated  pavement ;  but  these 
were  nothing  to  the  sumptuousness  of  the  draw- 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  35 

ing-room.  Its  carpets,  curtains,  and  seats  were 
oriental  in  their  luxuriousness ;  and  though  only 
the  family  were  assembled  there,  all  were  dressed 
in  the  extreme  of  fashion,  and  with  the  utmost 
splendor.  Mrs.  Melville  was  reclining  in  a 
fauteuil,  but  arose  at  her  husband's  entrance, 
and  extending  the  tips  of  her  fingers  to  his  visit 
or,  expressed  great  delight  at  making  his  ac 
quaintance. 

"  Bell,  let  me  introduce  you  to  Mr.  Atherton," 
she  said,  presenting  him  at  the  same  time  to  a 
young  lady  whom  he  had  not  at  first  observed. 
She  was  a  perfect  contrast  to  her  mother — simple, 
dignified,  and  quiet :  she  advanced  cordially 
towards  him,  and  offering  her  hand,  said  earnest 
ly,  "  I  hope  you  are  better  to-day.  Father  told 
us  yesterday  that  you  seemed  in  very  delicate 
health." 

It  is  an  astonishing  relief,  when  surrounded  by 
the  uncongenial  and  artificial,  to  meet  with  ease 
and  simplicity ;  and  the  manner  of  Miss  Mel 
ville  dispelled  the  constraint  which  was  en 
thralling  Mr.  Atherton.  He  answered  her  grate 
fully,  and  involuntarily  seated  himself  at  her 
side,  and  entered  into  a  very  animated  and 
agreeable  conversation. 

"  Do  you  sing  ?"  he  asked,  as  two  young  ladies 


36  HERBERT    ATLLERTON. 

left  the  piano,  at  which  they  had  been  perform 
ing  a  loud  duet. 

"  Only  for  myself." 

"  And  why  do  you  do  that  for  your  own  grati 
fication  alone,  which  might  give  pleasure  to 
others  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Because,"  she  replied,  "  I  only  sing  simple, 
pathetic  ballads,  or  sacred  melodies,  and  they 
are  not  suited  for  a  miscellaneous  audience." 

"  You  are  right,"  he  remarked,  "  but  this  only 
makes  me  anxious  to  hear  you.  The  best  musi 
cians  are  usually  the  most  averse  to  singing  in 
the  presence  of  unsympathizing  auditors.  Are 
you  fond  of  church  music  2" 

"  Very  much  so.  At  the  school  from  which 
I  have  just  returned,  a  few  of  the  girls  sing  in 
the  choir  of  the  little  church,  and  I  always  enjoy 
our  practising  evenings." 

At  this  moment  dinner  was  announced,  and 
being  the  only  gentleman  who  was  a  guest,  Mr. 
Atherton  offered  his  arm  to  the  lady  of  the  house, 
and  on  reaching  the  dining-room,  was  placed  at 
her  right  hand.  He  was  doubtful  whether  he 
was  expected  to  pronounce  a  benediction,  for  it 
did  not  appear  to  him  as  if  this  family  remem 
bered  God  in  all  their  ways ;  but  Mr.  Melville 
called  upon  him,  immediately,  to  perform  this 


HERBERT    ATHEKTON.  37 

solemn  act.  The  young  clergyman's  manner  be 
came  deeply  reverential  as  he  uttered  these  few 
words,  which  were  the  unstudied  expression  of 
his  own  heart :  "  Give  us  grace  to  be  temperate 
in  our  appetites,  and  moderate  in  the  supply  of 
them,  that  we  may  always  be  in  a  fit  frame  for 
thy  service,  and  able  to  provide  liberally  for  the 
wants  of  others.  This  we  ask  for  our  dear  Sa 
viour's  sake." 

Christian  moderation  J  Alas  for  the  groaning 
board,  the  multiplied  courses,  the  costly  viands  1 
Truly  !  to  what  purpose  is  this  waste  ? 

The  blessing  was  hardly  pronounced  when  a 
young  man,  whose  features  were  almost  lost  in  the 
hair  with  which  his  face  was  covered,  called  out 
to  his  sister  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  table, 
"  Bell,  I  say,  are  you  going  to  the  opera  to 
night  ?" 

"  No,  brother,"  she  replied,  quietly,  without 
assigning  any  reason. 

"Why  not?"  he  asked.  "I  did  not  say  the 
theatre,  child.  All  the  most  sanctified  people 
in  town  go  to  the  opera.  What  harm  is  there 
in  it?" 

u I  cannot  tell,  as  I  have  never  been  there; 
but  what  good  would  it  do  me  ?" 

"Good,  why  a  world  of  good!     Ton  would 


38  HERBERT   ATHEKTON. 

hear  Spressi,  and  she  sings  like  an  angel.  It  is 
a  great  deal  better  to  go  there  to  hear  her,  than  to 
Cal vert-street  church,  as  a  great  many  do ;  and 
I  am  sure  our  organist  never  plays  any  volunta 
ries,  but  opera  airs  Christianized." 

Miss  Bell  could  not  deny  this  fact,  and  seemed 
anxious  to  waive  the  discussion  ;  but  Harry  was, 
bent  on  prolonging  it. 

"  You  are  setting  up  to  be  wiser  than  your 
elders,  Bell,  and  that  is  much  worse  than  going 
to  hear  first-rate  music.  Father  always  goes  to 
the  opera,  and  he  is  a  churchwarden." 

"  But  not  a  communicant,  Harry,"  she  replied 
in  a  low  tone,  which,  however,  reached  Mr.  Ather- 
ton's  ear. 

"Not  a  communicant,"  he  said  to  himself: 
"this  explains  it  all."  And  his  respect  for  Mr. 
Melville  rose  at  finding  that  he  did  not  profess 
any  higher  principles  than  those  of  the  world 
around  him. 

"  Suppose  I  ask  Mr.  Atherton  what  he  thinks 
of  it,"  continued  Harry  in  a  low,  bantering  tone* 
"  I  would,  but  J  have  a  kind  of  fancy  that  he 
would  come  out  on  your  side.  I  think  I'll  ven 
ture  it  at  all  risks.  Mr.  Atherton,"  he  said  in  a 
much  louder  voice,  "  don't  you  think  the  opera  a 
rational  Christian  amusement  ?" 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  39 

"  I  know  nothing  of  the  way  in  which  it  is 
managed  in  this  country,"  he  replied,  with  calm 
dignity,  u  so  I  cannot  give  an  unqualified  opin 
ion.  I  believe  the  same  rule,  however,  applies 
to  amusements  everywhere.  Those  are  most 
suitable  for  a  Christian,  which  involve  the  least 
expenditure  of  time,  'thought,  or  money,  and 
upon  which  he  can  most  conscientiously  implore 
the  blessing  of  God." 

"  You  are  right,  sir!"  replied  the  young  man 
frankly ;  for  though  gay  himself,  he  had  come 
sufficiently  often  in  contact  with  truth  to  distin 
guish  it  readily  from  error.  "  Your  rule  in 
cludes  the  opera,  for  our  box  at  it  would  sup 
port  a  poor  family  for  a  year  :  a  visit  to  it  costs 
six  precious  hours,  and  the  girls  think  all  the 
day  before  what  dress  they  shall  wear  to  it,  and  all 
the  day  after  of  the  people  whom  they  met  there, 
I  am  heartily  glad  you  do  not  approve  of  it" 

"  Harry  is  jesting,"  said  Mrs.  Melville,  who 
could  not  believe  that  her  son  would  acknowl 
edge  that  the  very  amusement  which  he  had 
been  advocating,  was  an  unsuitable  one  for 
Christian  people.  She  did  not  know  that  in 
his  inmost  heart,  her  dissipated  son  respected 
nothing  so  much  as  total  abstinence  from  the 
gayeties  in  which  he  participated  so  freely. 


40  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

This  little  glimpse  of  Harry  Melville's  charac 
ter  made  Mr.  Atherton  peculiarly  alive  to  the 
tone  of  the  subsequent  conversation.  He  saw 
that,  notwithstanding  his  seeming  manner,  and 
the  lightness  with  which  he  spoke,  he  was  capa 
ble  of  thinking  deeply,  and  even  justly  upon 
many  subjects  about  which  he  affected  not  to 
think  at  all.  To  draw  out  the  young  man's  mind 
more  fully,  he  gave  a  literary  turn  to  the  con 
versation,  and  conversed  with  much  ease  and 
grace  upon  various  topics ;  assisted  by  Miss  Mel 
ville,  whose  remarks  displayed  a  rich  and  culti 
vated  understanding.  Harry's  manner  lost  its 
affectation,  and  became  exceedingly  agreeable. 
He  had  travelled  abroad  and  visited  many  inter 
esting  places,  which  he  described  with  pictur 
esque  accuracy  and  refined  taste.  The  young 
clergyman's  heart  fairly  yearned  to  impart  to 
his  companion  that  talismanic  gift  which  could 
bring  all  his  fine  faculties  into  harmony,  and 
determined  to  cultivate  his  acquaintance  by  every 
means  in  his  power.  He  was  surprised  to  find 
how  quickly  the  time  passed,  notwithstanding 
the  whispered  remarks  of  his  hostess,  to  which 
he  was  occasionally  obliged  to  listen ;  and  when 
at  last  the  party  arose  from  the  table,  and  ad 
journed  to  the  drawing-room,  he  was  gratified 


HEEBERT  ATHEETON.  4:1 

that  young  Melville  seemed  anxious  for  further 
conversation.  His  father,  however,  did  not  per 
mit  this  indulgence,  feeling  that  his  guest  had 
missed  much  in  being  debarred  so  long  from  his 
own  society,  by  the  etiquette  which  had  placed 
him  at  the  other  end  of  the  table. 

After  listening  for  half  an  hour  patiently  to  a 
repetition  of  the  harangues  delivered  in  the  li 
brary,  Mr.  Atherton  took  his  leave  with  a  cordial 
invitation  from  the  whole  family  to  renew  his 
visit. 

4* 


4:2  HERBERT  ATHERTON. 


CHAPTER  III. 

PROFESSIONAL    DUTIES    AND    PRIVATE    FEELINGS. 

"I  hear  thy  voice — thou  bidd'st  me  quit 
Thy  Paradise :  I  bless,  and  do  submit." 

DURING  the  next  few  weeks,  Herbert  Atherton 
gained  rapidly  in  strength,  for  the  heavy  burden 
was  removed  from  his  mind,  which  had  hitherto 
retarded  his  recovery.  Upon  their  first  acquaint 
ance,  Mrs.  Waterford  had  perceived,  with  true 
feminine  instinct,  that  uncertainty  with  regard  to 
the  future  and  a  disagreeable  sense  of  depen 
dence  were  wearing  upon  the  spirits  of  her  young 
friend,  notwithstanding  his  vigorous  efforts  to 
control  them.  As  soon  as  he  was  really  well 
enough  to  pursue  any  occupation,  she  determined 
to  propose  to  him  that  he  should  undertake  the 
entire  charge  of  Frank's  education.  The  offer 
was  made  to  him  in  manner  and  form,  for  she 
thought  that  even  between  the  closest  friends, 
business  should  be  thus  conducted ;  and  the 
salary  fixed  upon,  though  liberal,  was  not  large 
enough  to  make  him  feel  that  any  part  of  it  was 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  43 

a  gift.  Mr.  Atherton  gladly  accepted  the  pro 
posal,  and  his  mornings  henceforth  were  always 
passed  in  the  library  with  his  bright  and  affec 
tionate  pupil. 

Frank  had  hitherto  been  entirely  educated  by 
his  mother.  Her  means  were  so  ample,  that  she 
was  relieved  from  all  the  drudgery  of  housekeep 
ing,  and  a  most  valuable  nurse  took  care  of  the 
little  girls  while  she  was  engaged  with  their 
brother.  He  had  not  learned  to  read  till  nearly 
six  years  old ;  but  was  at  that  time  uncommonly 
mature  in  mind  from  constant  association  with 
older  people.  When  once  fairly  started  in  the 
career  of  learning,  his  progress  was  rapid  and 
thorough  :  now  only  ten,  he  was  well  advanced 
in  Latin,  and  quite  a  proficient  in  English  studies. 
Mr.  Atherton  had  been  much  pleased  with  the 
lad  ever  since  the  day  on  which  they  had  first 
met,  and  entered  into  his  new  employment 
with  real  enthusiasm.  He  considered  the  voca 
tion  of  teacher  as  only  second  to  his  own  sacred 
office,  and  had  always  been  desirous  of  uniting 
them.  The  pleasure  which  he  felt  in  the  hours 
that  were  passed  with  his  pupil  was  readily  im 
bibed  by  the  latter,  and  he  began  to  consider  hig 
lessons  more  as  a  matter  of  choice  than  ne 
cessity. 


44:  '      HERBERT    ATHERTON 

The  prepossession  that  Frank  had  conceived 
for  his  new  teacher,  on  account  of  his  connection 
with  a  father  whom  he  had  dearly  loved,  soon 
ripened  into  the  warmest  attachment.  The 
bright  manly  boy  became  the  almost  insep 
arable  companion  of  the  walks  of  the  young  cler 
gyman,  by  whom  he  was  treated  precisely  as  a 
brother.  It  was  not  long  before  he  acquired  the 
habit  of  telling  him  every  thing  in  which  he  was 
interested ;  and  this  gave  an  opportunity  for  di 
recting  even  his  thoughts. 

The  most  precious  talent  in  any  teacher  is  this 
power  of  gaining  the  confidence  of  the  young, 
for  it  gives  them  an  amount  of  influence  which 
could  be  acquired  by  no  other  method,  and  takes 
from  their  relation  all  mercenary  character.  Mrs. 
Waterford  saw  with  deep  satisfaction  this  growing 
intimacy,  and  was  most  grateful  to  the  Giver  oi 
all  mercies  that  he  had  provided  her  fatherless 
son  with  so  excellent  an  example  and  so  judicious 
a  guide. 

But  though  Mr.  Atherton  devoted  his  mornings 
exclusively  to  Frank,  this  was  not  long  his  only 
occupation  :  he  was  introduced  by  Mr.  Melville 
to  several  of  the  most  prominent  clergymen  of 
the  city,  and  became  warmly  interested  in  many 
of  the  benevolent  plans  which  they  were  prosecu- 


HERBERT    ATHEKTON.  45 

ting  with  such  ardent  zeal.  He  was  delighted  to 
find  that  the  manner  in  which  they  had  been 
mentioned  by  Mr.  Melville  had  not  proceeded 
from  any  want  of  dignity  or  .consistency  in  them 
selves,  but  from  the  absurd  habit  which  that 
gentleman  had  conceived,  in  common  with  many 
others,  of  endeavoring  to  enhance  his  own  im 
portance  by  an  appearance  of  great  familiarity 
with  those  who  were  held  in  high  esteem. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Atherton's  health  was  restored, 
at  the  urgent  request  of  the  excellent  bishop,  he 
took  charge  of  a  small  missionary  chapel,  which 
had  recently  been  established  in  one  of  the  most 
depraved  parts  of  the  city.  This  chapel  was 
principally  attended  by  men  and  boys,  who  were 
more  pleased  with  extemporaneous  speaking  than 
written  discourses,  as  great  vivacity  of  manner 
was  necessary  to  engage  their  attention. 

Mr.  Atherton's  sermons  had  always  been  re 
markable  for  the  originality  and  variety  of  their 
illustrations,  and  this  peculiarity  adapted  them 
to  the  comprehension  of  a  class  of  hearers  who 
needed  that  all  abstract  truths  should  be  ex 
plained  by  sensible  objects  :  without  making  a 
single  remark  which  could  excite  mirthfulness, 
or  degrade  the  loftiest  of  all  subjects,  he  managed 
to  introduce  a  variety  of  interesting  anecdotes, 


4:6  HEKBERT  ATHERTON. 

precisely  adapted  to  their  own  mode  of  thought 
and  manner  of  life.  This  method  of  preaching 
required  no  previous  study,  excepting  with  re 
gard  to  the  nature  and  capacities  of  his  audience ; 
and  this  he  gained  by  almost  daily  visits  to  their 
wretched  haunts,  which  even  more  excellent  men 
would  have  feared  to  enter.  It  is  true  that  occa 
sionally  he  met  with  insolence,  often  with  scorn, 
and  sometimes  with  violent  threats,  while  on 
these  errands  of  love,  but  they  seemed  scarcely  to 
excite  even  emotion. 

He  had  taken  a  calm  survey  of  all  the  difficul 
ties  of  his  present  position  before  assuming  it, 
and  they  therefore  caused  neither  surprise  nor 
apprehension.  Having  thus  deeply  impressed 
upon  his  mind  by  actual  observation  the  wretch 
edness  which  sin  entails,  and  the  fearful  destruc 
tion  to  which  it  must  eventually  lead,  it  was  not 
singular  that  the  ardent  young  man  soon  became 
distinguished  for  his  eloquence.  Now  and  then, 
a  stranger  of  respectable  appearance  might  be 
seen  among  his  motley  congregation,  attracted 
thither  by  the  report  of  the  eminent  success  of 
the  preacher  ;  and  these  were  always  struck  with 
the  deep  interest  visible  on  faces  seared  by  crime, 
and  bloated  by  vice. 

Although  Mrs.  Waterford  fully  approved  of 


47 

the  new  charge  which  had  been  undertaken  by 
her  young  friend,  she  always  felt  some  anxiety 
when  he  did  not  return  at  the  usual  hour.  They 
were  now  upon  the  most  confidential  and  in 
timate  terms;  but  there  was  one  point  in  Mr. 
Athertou's  character  which  Mrs.  Waterford  did 
not  fully  understand :  this  was  the  entire  indif 
ference  that  he  manifested  towards  all  other  la 
dies,  although  enjoying  so  keenly  her  own  friend 
ship  and  society.  It  is  true,  that  after  paying  a 
visit  to  Mr.  Melville,  he  would  sometimes  speak 
approvingly  of  the  sober-mindedness  and  intelli 
gence  of  his  eldest  daughter ;  but  not  a  particle 
of  personal  interest  seemed  to  mingle  in  these 
commendations.  His  manner,  too,  was  always 
that  of  one  who  had  bid  adieu  to  every  hope  of 
earthly  happiness,  though,  excepting  his  orphan 
age,  there  was  no  feature  in  his  lot  to  account  for 
this  peculiar  hopelessness.  He  was  bright  and 
cheerful,  but  his  contentment  evidently  had  its 
only  seat  in  the  conscientious  performance  of 
duty ;  and  when  in  female  society,  his  manners, 
though  kind  and  cordial,  were  those  of  a  person 
who  felt  himself  divided  by  an  impassable  gulf 
from  all  the  nearest  and  dearest  ties  of  life. 

From  these  circumstances,  Mrs.  Waterford  had 
arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  her  friend  had  met 


48  HERBEKT   ATHEETON. 

with  one  of  those  disappointments  of  the  heart, 
which,  if  rightly  used,  do  so  much  towards 
chastening  and  elevating  the  character.  She 
would  not,  for  the  world,  have  pried  into  his  con 
fidence,  but  with  true  feminine  curiosity,  she 
could  not  help  saying  to  him  one  evening,  on  his 
return  from  a  social  visit, 

"  "Well,  my  dear  Herbert,  have  you  met  with 
any  ladies  this  evening  that  you  found  at  all  in 
teresting  ?" 

She  thought  that  her  manner  of  putting  this 
question  was  quite  careless,  but  he  had  learned 
to  read  the  language  of  her  expressive  counte 
nance,  and  saw  that  his  indifference  to  her  own 
sex  had  excited  her  astonishment.  For  a  mo 
ment  his  brow  was  shadowed  by  pain,  and  then 
he  walked  towards  the  window  to  conceal  his 
emotion. 

"  Forgive  me,"  she  said  instantly,  "  if  I  have 
annoyed  you  by  my  remark :  it  was  one  I  had 
no  right  to  make." 

"  You  have  every  right,"  he  replied  warmly, 
"  to  my  confidence ;  but  there  is  one  subject  to 
which  it  is  always  painful  for  me  to  allude." 

"  Then  never  mention  it,"  she  replied  quickly: 
"  much  as  I  value  your  confidence,  I  value  your 
happiness  more." 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  49 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said  affectionately,  as,  some 
what  more  composed,  he  seated  himself  by  her 
side. 

It  was  a  warm  evening  in  the  middle  of  July, 
and  the  only  light  was  screened  by  a  shade  of 
colored  glass ;  yet  Mrs,  Waterford  saw  that  her 
companion's  cheek  was  flushed,  and  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears. 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  be  relieved,"  he  said,  after  a 
silence  of  some  moments,  "  if  I  tell  you  the  his 
tory  of  my  heart,  though  it  may  be  of  little  in 
terest  : 

"  More  than  two  years  since,  I  was  sent  for,  as 
a  clergyman,  to  visit  an  elderly  lady  who  was 
very  ill.  She  had  arrived  at  Havana  nearly  a 
month  previous,  accompanied  by  her  brother  and 
his  only  daughter,  a  young  lady  of  about  eighteen. 
I  had  noticed  the  whole  party  on  coming  out  of 
the  church,  the  Sunday  after  their  arrival ;  for, 
though  very  delicate,  Miss  Cameron  had  not 
been  considered  in  immediate  danger,  and  was 
lot  confined  to  the  house  where  they  had  taken 
odgings  for  the  winter.  I  was  struck,  however, 
iy  that  peculiar  transparency  of  the  skin,  and 
tunken  appearance  around  the  mouth,  which  so 
often  marks  those  who  are  victims  of  consump 
tion,  and  was  not  therefore  surprised  to  learn, 


50  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

soon  afterwards,  that  she  was  suffering  from  a 
violent  attack  of  hemorrhage.  Her  brother,  Mr, 
Cameron,  being  persuaded  that  a  residence  in  a 
warmer  climate  was  all  that  was  necessary  to 
restore  her  health,  felt  no  uneasiness  at  leaving 
her  for  a  few  weeks,  when  recalled  by  business 
to  Savannah,  which  was  the  residence  of  the 
family.  A  gentleman  belonging  to  Havana, 
with  whom  he  had  been  intimate  for  many  years, 
promised  to  see  that  she  received  every  attention ; 
and  his  daughter  Agnes  would,  he  well  knew,  be 
the  most  tender  and  devoted  of  nurses. 

"  On  entering  the  chamber  of  the  invalid,  I 
saw  at  a  glance  that  her  days  were  numbered. 
She  was  a  remarkably  interesting  woman,  and 
had,  notwithstanding  her  weakness,  perfect  com 
mand  of  all  her  faculties.  Her  niece  was  bending 
over  her  with  an  expression  of  intense  anxiety ; 
but  her  own  face  was  free  from  all  perturbation, 
and  a  smile  passed  over  it,  as  I  approached  the 
couch  on  which  she  reclined,  and  made  some  in 
quiries  with  regard  to  her  soul's  health.  She 
had  been,  she  told  me,  a  communicant  in  the 
Church  ever  since  her  fifteenth  year,  and  had  en 
joyed  a  life  of  uncommon  peace  and  freedom  from 
temptation.  She  had  not  sent  for  me  to  quiet 
any  fears  of  conscience,  or  to  reconcile  her  to 


HERBERT    ATliKRTOX.  51 

leaving  a  world  with  which  she  had  little  sym 
pathy  ;  but  to  use  that  beautiful  service  for  the 
sick,  which,  even  in  health,  she  had  often  read 
with  the  deepest  interest.  I  found  that  her  life 
had  been  one  long  preparation  for  death,  and 
that  my  only  office  was  to  offer  a  prayer  and  a 
thanksgiving,  and  commend  her  to  His  keep 
ing  in  whom  she  had  long  since  learned  to 
trust. 

"While  Miss  Cameron  was  speaking  thus 
calmly  of  her  own  probable  decease,  her  niece 
was  fearfully  agitated. 

"  '  Try  and  compose  yourself,  Agnes,'  she  said 
tenderly  ;  c  if  you  love  me,  do  not  grieve  that  I 
have  a  prospect  of  entering  so  soon  upon  a  world 
of  perfect  happiness.' 

"  '  But  I  cannot  live  without  you — indeed  I 
cannot !'  she  exclaimed,  clinging  to  her  aunt  with 
convulsive  strength,  and  seeming  entirely  forget 
ful  of  my  presence ;  '  who  will  ever  tell  me  what 
is  right,  or  love  me  as  you  have  done  ?' 

" c  You  have  one  friend  who  has  always  loved 
you  much  more  dearly,'  said  the  invalid  faintly, 
disengaging  herself  from  the  clasping  arms  of  her 
beloved  niece.  '  When  He  called  your  mother 
away,  I  was  sent  to  fill  her  place ;  and  when  I 
am  gone,  He  will  provide  some  other  guide  for 


52  HERBERT    ATHEETON. 

you,  my  poor  child,  I  have  no  fear  in  leaving 
you  to  His  care.' 

"  '  Oh,  Aunt !  how  can  you  be  so  willing  to 
give  me  up  ?'  exclaimed  Agnes,  almost  frantic 
with  grief;  '  you  who  have  watched  me  so  many 
years,  and  would  not  even  leave  me  for  a  day  !' 

"  This  reproach  agitated  for  a  moment  the 
weakened  frame  of  the  sufferer,  but  she  soon  re 
gained  her  self-composure,  and  turning  to  me, 
remarked, 

" c  My  poor  Agnes  does  not  know  what  she 
says.  God  will  in  time  strengthen  her*' 

"  I  could  not  witness  this  scene  without  deep 
emotion.  I  had  not  seen  a  more  lovely  being 
than  the  young  girl  who  was  thus  deeply  afflicted ; 
and  her  manner  and  bearing  betrayed  the  depth 
of  her  feelings  and  the  warmth  of  her  heart.  I 
wished  that  I  were  her  brother,  so  that  I  might  be 
permitted  to  wipe  the  tears  from  those  dark  eyes, 
and  promise  to  watch  over  her  with  unsleeping 
tenderness.  As  it  was,  I  only  spoke  to  her, 
soothingly,  of  Him  who  is  closer  than  a  brother, 
and  more  tender  than  a  mother.  She  scarcely 
heeded  my  words,  but  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on  her 
aunt,  with  a  deep  mournfumess  of  expression 
which  I  can  never  forget.  I  heard  her  sobbing 
violently  when  I  prayed  that  if  it  were  not  God's 


HERBERT    ATHERTOJST.  53 

good  pleasure  that  the  sick  person  should  recover, 
she  might,  'after  this  painful  life  was  ended, 
dwell  with  him  in  life  everlasting.' 

"  Before  leaving  Miss  Cameron,  I  begged  her 
to  let  me  know  if  in  any  way  I  could  be  of  s'er- 
vice  to  herself  or  her  niece,  and  promised  to  see 
them  again  during  the  next  day. 

"  Why  should  I  dwell  on  the  hours  passed  in 
that  blessed  chamber?  For  some  time  I  had 
little  conversation  with  Agnes,  for  she  was  always 
absorbed  in  her  aunt,  who  daily  grew  weaker, 
but  lingered  much  longer  than  I  had  at  first 
expected. 

"  It  was  the  evening  of  a  lovely  sabbath,  early 
in  April,  when  Miss  Cameron  sent  to  know  if  I 
could  administer  to  her  the  Holy  Sacrament.  I 
immediately  repaired  to  her  chamber,  where  I 
found  no  one  but  Agnes  and  herself,  besides  the 
colored  woman  who  was  their  constant  attendant. 
To  my  astonishment,  as  I  was  about  commencing 
the  communion  service,  Agnes  rose  to  leave  the 
room. 

"  *  Stay,  dearest,'  said  her  aunt  feebly ;  '  I  could 
have  wished  that  you  might  have  joined  in  all 
the  services ;  but  there  are  some  prayers  in 
which  you  can  surely  unite.' 

"  Agnes  reseated  herself,  evidently  agitated  in 

5* 


HERBERT    ATHERTOIT, 

no  common  degree,  at  being  thus  requested  to 
remain  during  the  most  solemn  mystery  of  our 
holy  faith. 

"She  did  not  again  attract  my  notice,  till  after 
the  administration  of  the  sacred  elements,  in 
which  Miss  Cameron  and  her  faithful  servant 
alone  participated.  Then  her  face  was  covered 
with  both  hands,  and  she  was  sobbing  violently. 
When  the  services  were  concluded,  she  left  the 
room  immediately,  and  her  aunt  gazed  after  her 
with  mournful  tenderness  ;  and  then  said,  '  Poor 
child !  How  the  Spirit  is  struggling  with  her 
heart !  Oh,  gracious  Saviour,  bring  this  lamb 
into  thine  own  fold  !' 

"The  whole  manner  of  this  eminent  Christian 
surpasses  description.  She  seemed  to  realize  the 
presence  of  her  beloved  Redeemer,  as  completely 
as  if  he  were  corporeally  visible,  and  she  had 
found  in  the  commemoration  of  his  death  a  rich 
foretaste  of  that  heavenly  feast  to  which  she 
was  soon  to  sit  down,  in  the  kingdom  of  his 
Father. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  convey  to  you  my  astonish 
ment  at  thus  learning  that  one  so  lovely  and 
amiable  as  Agnes  Cameron  was  still  an  alien  from 
the  fold  of  Christ.  It  had  never  once  crossed 
my  mind  that  she  did  not  fully  coincide  in  all 


HERBERT  ATHERTON.  55 

the  devout  sentiments  which  her  aunt  expressed, 
and  insensibly,  I  had  formed  for  her  the  deepest 
attachment,  partly  founded  on  respect  for  the 
Christian  virtues  which  I  had  imagined  she  pos 
sessed. 

"  I  saw  at  a  glance,  the  painful  task  which  was 
before  me,  for  I  had  long  since  made  up  my 
mind  that  no  Christian,  and  especially  no  clergy 
man,  had  any  right  to  unite  himself  with  one 
who  could  not  fully  sympathize  with  him  on  this 
most  important  of  all  subjects.  In  a  letter  of 
advice  bequeathed  to  me  by  my  dying  mother, 
she  had  especially  warned  me  against  the  danger 
of  fixing  my  affections  on  any  woman  who  was 
not  a  devoted  Christian;  knowing,  as  she  said, 
that  with  my  ardent  temperament,  much  of  my 
happiness  in  this  life,  and  perhaps  my  salvation 
in  the  next,  might  depend  upon  this  momentous 
choice.  She  begged,  however,  that  I  would  not 
make  her  wishes  the  only  ground  for  pursuing 
this  course,  but  would  calmly  examine  the  Bible, 
while  my  mind  was  unprejudiced,  and  write 
down  the  irresistible  result  of  this  prayerful 
scrutiny. 

"I  fulfilled  her  request,  and  will  show  you,  at 
some  future  time,  the  reasons  why  I  determined 
that  no  beauty  of  person,  or  loveliness  of  charac- 


56  HERBERT   ATHERTOH. 

ter,  should  induce  me  to  overlook  in  a  woman 
the  absence  of  religious  principle  ? 

"  You  may,  perhaps,  think  that  I  had  arrived 
too  hastily  at  the  conclusion  that  Agnes  was  not 
a  Christian,  because  she  was  not  a  communicant? 
and  that  I. had  every  reason  to  expect  that  the 
affliction  through  which  she  was  passing,  might 
render  her  entirely  suitable  for  the  wife  of  a 
clergyman. 

"  But  a  conversation  which  I  held  with  Miss 
Cameron  on  the  day  following  this  impressive 
scene,  showed  rne  that  my  conclusions,  though 
hasty,  had  been  correct.  She  informed  me  that 
her  brother,  Mr.  Cameron,  had  married  an  amia 
ble  but  irreligious  woman,  who  had  exercised  a 
most  unfortunate  effect  upon  his  principles  and  hab 
its.  As  a  boy,  he  had  been  remarkably  free  from 
worldliness  ;  but  a  kind  desire  to  please  his  wife, 
led  him  into  society,  for  which  he  had  naturally 
no  inclination,  and  in  time,  he  acquired  a  taste 
for  gayety  and  a  love  of  excitement.  His  re 
ligious  declension  was  rapid,  and  in  a  few  years, 
though  a  professing  Christian,  he  was  only  so  in 
name.  Agnes  was  the  only  child  of  this  unfor 
tunate  union,  and  being  a  girl,  was  wholly  under 
her  mother's  influence,  and  brought  up  without 
the  slightest  regard  to  any  interests,  but  those  of 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  57 

time.  She  was  only  ten  years  of  age  when  her 
mother  was  seized  with  a  violent  fever,  which 
soon  terminated  her  life. 

"  Mr.  Cameron  was  completely  prostrated  by 
this  shock,  for  he  had  ceased  to  lean  upon  the 
only  Arm  which  was  capable  of  affording  him 
support.  He  went  immediately  to  Europe,  leav^ 
ing  Agnes  at  a  fashionable  boarding-school, 
where  her  associates  were  of  the  most  thought 
less  kind.  Miss  Cameron,  herself,  had  been 
living  for  many  years  in  the  family  of  another 
brother,  who  was  also  a  widower ;  but  as  his 
oldest  daughter  was  now  able  to  take  charge  of 
his  household,  she  immediately  requested  the 
father  to  intrust  to  her  the  education  of  his  child, 
whenever  his  health  should  allow  him  to  return 
to  his  native  land.  He  gladly  acceded  to  this 
proposal,  and  came  back  in  a  few  months.  But 
Miss  Cameron  could  hardly  recognize  her  brother 
in  the  cold,  reserved  man,  over  whose  house  she 
now  presided,  as  his  affliction  had  not  melted 
his  heart,  but  turned  it  to  stone.  He  seemed 
hardly  to  feel  any  interest  in  his  child,  who  be 
came  wholly  dependent  upon  her  aunt  for  care 
and  protection.  She  manifested  the  germs  of 
much  that  was  excellent ;  but  her  early  education 
had  developed  only  the  seeds  of  evil.  By  patient 


58 

kindness  her  faithful  aunt  endeavored  to  eradi* 
cate  her  erroneous  ideas,  but  she  found  her  task 
a  difficult  one.  Agnes  was  warm-hearted,  gene 
rous,  impulsive,  and  amiable,  but  had  no  sense 
of  religious  responsibility.  She  made  rapid  im 
provement  in  self-government  and  in  intellect, 
but  her  heart  seemed  almost  impervious  to  re 
ligious  impressions.  Lovely  in  manner,  and 
capable  of  exciting  the  warmest  affection,  she 
was  totally  deficient  in  this  crowning  grace  of 
female  character. 

"This  relation  was  made  to  me  with  many 
tears,  and  much  as  it  excited  my  pity  for  the 
motherless  girl,  still  the  story  of  her  father's 
errors  strengthened  my  own  determination.  I 
had  yet  never  displayed  any  thing  but  friendly 
interest  in  Agnes,  and  therefore  was  bound  by 
no  sentiment  of  honor  to  disclose  my  attach 
ment.  If,  indeed,  her  present  affliction  should 
be  blessed  to  her  soul,  I  might  then  conscien 
tiously  ask  her  hand,  but  otherwise  I  had  no 
right  to  yield  to  my  own  heart. 

"  Before  that  week  had  closed,  Miss  Cameron 
had  quietly  passed  to  the  world  of  spirits.  I  was 
sitting  at  the  side  of  her  bed,  and  Agnes  by  her 
pillow,  when  she  breathed  her  last.  It  was 
vain  to  speak  of  consolation  to  the  agonized 


11EKBEKT    Al'HEKTOK.  59 

mourner.  She  wept  day  and  night,  till  so  ex 
hausted  that  she  was  incapable  of  feeling.  Her 
father  in  the  mean  while  arrived,  his  return  having 
been  accelerated  by  the  news  of  the  increased  ill 
ness  of  his  sister.  He  thanked  me  coldly  for  my 
services,  but  intimated  that  he  could  now  dis 
pense  with  my  visits,  and  I  therefore  saw  Agnes 
no  more  till  the  evening  of  her  departure,  Then  I 
put  in  her  hand  a  letter  which  I  had  written, 
placing  before  her  in  as  strong  a  light  as  I  could 
the  risk  she  was  incurring  by  endeavoring  to 
quiet  the  voice  of  conscience,  and  repel  the  spirit 
of  God.  As  her  father  and  the  gentleman  who 
had  taken  charge  of  his  sister  during  his  absence 
were  both  present,  we  had  little  opportunity  for 
any  conversation  by  which  I  could  learn  what 
was  the  state  of  her  mind.  She  seemed  deeply 
grateful  for  my  attention  to  her  aunt,  and  shed 
many  tears  when  I  bade  her  farewell.  I  have 
never  seen  her  since,  but  have  heard  that  after 
her  return  to  Savannah  she  plunged  very  soon 
into  gay  society,  and  appeared  perfectly  wedded 
to  the  world-  Still  I  have  never  ceased  to  pray 
that  she  might  become  an  obedient  child  of  God ; 
not  that  we  may  be  united  here,  but  that  she 
may  be  saved  from  the  inevitable  doom  of  the 
impenitent." 


60  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

At  this  thought,  Mr.  Athertou  was  completely 
overcome ;  and  Mrs.  "Waterford,  who  had  been 
deeply  interested  in  his  narration,  gave  him  the 
most  soothing  and  delicate  sympathy,  and  tried 
to  encourage  him  to  believe  that  his  prayers 
would  be  heard. 

From  that  time,  no  reference  was  ever  made 
to  this  sad  subject,  but  Herbert  seemed  more 
closely  united  to  his  new  friend,  by  her  knowledge 
of  his  deepest  trial.  Frank  never  suspected, 
when  listening  to  the  animated  conversation  of 
his  teacher  and  friend,  that  he  only  maintained 
his  constant  cheerfulness  by  never-failing  effort 
and  unceasing  prayer. 


HERBERT   ATHERTON,  61 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE    WORLD    AND    THE    CHURCH. 

<*  The  hand  that  holds  her  chalice  should  be  pure, 
The  priest  of  her  high  temple  spotless  as 
The  vestments  of  her  ministry." 

EARLY  in  the  month  of  August,  Dr.  Welford 
returned  from  England.  He  was  informed  by 
Mr.  Melville,  soon  after  his  arrival,  that  Mr, 
Atherton  was  in  the  city,  and  went  immediately 
to  Mrs.  Waterford's,  where  he  found  his  friend 
giving  Frank  a  lesson  in  mathematics. 

Herbert  expressed  great  pleasure  at  seeing, 
once  more,  a  familiar  face ;  for,  though  he  had 
made  many  acquaintances  who  had  been  exceed- 
ingly  kind,  still  his  spirit  yearned  for  some  tie 
connecting  him  with  his  own  past  life,  and  his 
early  home.  He  told  Dr.  Welford  frankly  of  the 
embarrassing  situation  in  which  he  had  been 
placed,  when  he  recovered  from  his  sudden  ill 
ness,  and  found  himself  destitute  in  a  land  of 
strangers.  His  friend  was  exceedingly  troubled 
to  learn  how  much  inconvenience  had  been  oc- 


62  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

casioned  by  an  act  of  thoughtlessness  on  his  own 
part,  and  seemed  hardly  able  at  first  to  forgive 
himself. 

"The  fact  was,"  he  said,  "that,  shortly  after 
writing  to  yon,  I  learned  that  business  of  import 
ance  would  make  it  necessary  for  me  to  go 
abroad  without  delay.  The  arrangement  of  my 
affairs,  previous  to  my  departure,  in  addition  to 
my  professional  duties,  occupied  my  mind  so 
fully,  that  it  was  not  till  on  my  passage  to  Eng 
land  that  I  remembered  the  possibility  of  your 
leaving  Havana  before  I  could  communicate  to 
you  the  intelligence  of  my  absence,  or  commend 
you  by  letter  to  any  of  my  friends.  It  was  also 
impossible  for  me  to  learn  your  direction  in  New 
York,  and  I  contented  myself  with  writing  to  the 
Island,  with  the  hope  that  you  might  be  detained 
there  till  you  could  hear  from  me.  I  assure  you 
that  the  uncertainty  as  to  your  movements  has 
given  me  much  uneasiness ;  and  I  was  greatly 
relieved  to-day  at  finding  that  you  were  with 
Mrs.  Waterford.  I  presumed  that  you  knew  her 
direction,  and  came  hither,  soon  after  landing, 
with  the  intention  of  telling  her  such  particulars 
of  her  husband's  illness  as  she  could  learn  only 
from  yourself,  and  I  was  sure  she  would  show 
you  every  attention  in  her  power." 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  63 

"  She  has  indeed  done  so,"  said  Herbert,  grate 
fully,  and  he  related  to  Dr.  Welford  the  provi- 
dential  circumstances  which  had  led  to  their  ac 
quaintance. 

"But  how  is  it,  Herbert,"  exclaimed  Dr. 
Welford,  "that  you  have  taken  charge  of  the 
little  chapel  of  St.  Barnabas  ?  it  is  no  place  for 
you." 

"Why   not?"   asked  his  young  friend,  with 
great  simplicity.     "  Do  you  not  think  I  am  ca^ 
pable  of  doing  any  good  to  the  poor  outcasts,  by ' 
whom  it  is  attended?" 

Dr.  Welford  smiled.  "  Yes,  indeed ;  I  do  not 
doubt  that  you  have  been  very  useful ;  but  it  is 
not  such  a  position  as  you  ought  to  occupy." 

"  I  cannot  see  any  objection  to  my  doing  so, 
while  the  compensation  I  receive  for  Frank's 
tuition  enables  me  to  be  independent;  and  I 
have  time  for  both,"  said  Herbert,  with  a  ques 
tioning  look. 

"  But  your  talents,  my  dear  friend,  are  of  too 
high  an  order  to  be  wasted  in  a  place,  where  any 
good,  kind  man  would  be  quite  as  useful.  I 
must  speak  to  the  Bishop  about  it,  and  there  will 
be  no  difficulty  in  procuring  a  congregation,  more 
capable  of  appreciating  you." 

Herbert  had  great  respect  for  Dr.  Welford,  but 


64  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

he  was  always  perfectly  independent  both  in 
opinion  and  action. 

"  I  thank  you  most  sincerely  for  your  kind 
offer,"  he  said;  "but,  for  the  present  I  would 
rather  remain  where  I  am.  I  should  hardly  be 
able  to  write  two  sermons  weekly,  and  do  my 
duty  to  Frank  faithfully ;  besides,  supposing  it 
true  that  God  has  given  me  any  talents  for 
preaching,  I  shall  only  be  so  much  the  more 
likely  to  touch  the  hard  hearts  of  my  auditors, 
whose  situation  has  inspired  me  with  the  deepest 
interest.  It  always  has  seemed  to  me  the  most 
Christ-like  of  occupations,  to  try  and  bring  back 
to  virtue  and  happiness,  those  children  of  mis 
ery  and  crime ;  and  the  little  influence  I  may 
have  obtained,  may  yet  end  in  leading  some 
wretched  being  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Sa 
viour." 

"  And  are  you  willing  to  toil  on  in  such  an 
unpromising  field,  for  the  faint  hope  that  some 
solitary  individual  may  yet  be  saved  through 
your  instrumentality?"  asked  Dr.  Welford,  ad 
miring  the  cheerfulness  with  which  his  com 
panion  mentioned  this  remote  hope  as  sufficient 
reward  for  his  arduous  labors. 

"If  a  single  soul  is  worth  the  world,  the 
chance  of  saving  one  ought  to  be  incentive 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  65 

enough  for  a  life  of  exertion — had  it  not  ?"  asked 
Herbert. 

"  Certainly,  it  should,"  said  his  friend  warmly. 
"  I  think  sometimes  that  we  clergymen,  who  are 
shut  up  year  after  year  in  the  city,  breathing  the 
tainted  atmosphere  of  the  world,  are  in  danger 
of  losing  our  spirituality,  and  viewing  our  fel 
low-beings  as  they  are  esteemed  by  the  mass  of 
mankind  around  us,  rather  than  with  the  impar 
tiality  of  our  divine  Exemplar.  I  own,  that  for 
the  moment,  a  congregation  like  my  own  seemed 
to  me  worthy  of  a  more  talented  minister  than 
that  of  St.  Barnabas ;  but  when  I  think  of  it, 
the  latter  position  has,  perhaps,  the  greatest  need 
of  eloquence  and  fervent  piety.  In  my  parish, 
there  are  many  Christians,  and  the  majority  lead, 
at  least,  moral  lives,  while  yours  is  composed 
mainly  of  the  vicious,  who  might  not  hear  in 
any  other  way  the  offers  of  salvation.  Still, 
though  souls  are  all  of  equal  value  in  the  sight 
of  their  Creator,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  there 
are  those  whose  influence  is  much  more  ex 
tensive  than  others,  and  of  course  their  con 
version  will  lead  to  much  more  important  re 
sults.  Religion  and  morality  spread  downwards 
rather  than  upwards  in  society ;  and  therefore, 
it  is  peculiarly  desirable  that  those  who  are 


66  HEKBEET   ATHEKTOtf. 

in  high  positions  should  be  examples  to  the 
rest." 

"  I  agree  with  you  on  this  point,"  said  Her 
bert  ;  "  and  I  own  that  it  has  grieved  me  to  find 
how  many  professedly  Christian  people  were  do 
ing  injury,  instead  of  good,  to  those  for  whom 
they  are,  in  a  manner,  responsible.  Do  you  not 
sometimes  become  quite  discouraged,  when  you 
see  persons  so  familiar  with  the  form  of  godli 
ness,  who  have  none  of  its  spirit  ?" 

"  Indeed,  I  do,"  exclaimed  Dr.  Welford,  with 
deep  feeling.  "  Men  speak  flippantly  of  the  holiest 
topics,  which  they  have  no  preparation  of  the 
heart  for  understanding,  and  there  is  not  a  mys 
tery  which  is  sacred  from  their  profane  touch. 
Even  the  blessed  sacrament  is  bandied  about  from 
mouth  to  mouth ;  and  the  mode  of  its  adminis 
tration,  and  the  manner  in  which  all  the  services 
are  performed,  is  a  matter  of  perpetual  criti 
cism." 

"  Is  it  possible  !"  said  Herbert,  mournfully  • 
"  I  should  as  soon  think  the  manner  in  which  the 
prodigal  son  approached  his  father,  was  a  sub 
ject  of  remark,  as  that  in  which  God's  children 
draw  nigh  to  his  throne." 

"  So  it  would  seem,"  said  Dr.  Welford  ;  "  but  I 
am  forgetting  myself,  and  staying  here  quite  too 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  67 

long ;  before  I  go,  however,  you  must  promise 
to  preach  for  me  next  Sunday,  I  have  my  hands 
full  of  business,  and  you  will  really  oblige  me,  if 
you  will  exchange  duties  on  that  occasion." 

"  Certainly,  then,  I  will  do  so,"  said  Herbert ; 
"  but  I  have  little  time  before  me  now,  to  write 
a  sermon." 

"  Have  you  none  with  you  ?"  asked  Dr.  Wei- 
ford  in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

"  Yes,  several,"  replied  the  young  clergyman, 
hesitatingly ;  "  but  do  you  not  think,  sir,  that  we 
always  ought  to  improve  from  year  to  year  in 
our  discourses  ?  Progress  is,  you  know,  the  law 
of  Christian  life,  and  if  we  are  really  the  chil 
dren  of  God,  we  must  be  advancing  in  holiness, 
and  attaining  clearer  views  of  eternal  truth.  If 
BO,  it  seems  to  me  that  after  the  discipline  of  long 
sickness,  and  much  trial,  I  ought  to  write  better 
sermons  than  before  I  was  thus  chastened." 

There  was  something  delightful  to  Dr.  Wei- 
ford  in  the  simple,  earnest  spirit  of  the  young 
clergyman,  and  he  sighed,  as  he  thought  how, 
amid  the  battle  of  life,  the  tone  of  his  own  mind 
had  become,  imperceptibly,  less  elevated. 

"  I  hope  you  will  do  my  people  as  much  good, 
as  you  have  done  me,"  he  said  warmly,  at 
parting. 


68  HERBERT    ATHEKTON. 

As  Herbert  Atherton  and  Frank  were  walk 
ing,  that  day,  in  a  retired  part  of  the  city,  they 
observed  that  they  were  followed  by  a  man  of 
most  suspicious  appearance,  whose  head  and 
neck  were,  notwithstanding  the  heat  of  the 
weather,  so  closely  muffled  by  a  silk  handker 
chief,  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  his  face.  As,  in  crossing  a  street,  Mr. 
Atherton  fell  a  little  behind  his  pupil,  the  stran 
ger  stepped  up  to  him  and  asked  in  a  low  voice, 
"  Are  you  the  minister  who  preaches  at  St.  Bar 
nabas  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Herbert,  fearlessly  ;  "  do  you  want 
me?" 

"  Meet  me  in  front  of  the  chapel,  as  soon  as 
you  can,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  I  wish  to  say ; 
it  won't  do  for  me  to  be  staying  here,"  said  the 
stranger,  and  then  fell  back  again. 

Mr.  Atherton  stepped  forward  quickly  and 
joined  his  pupil. 

"Frank,"  he  said,  "I  have  an  errand  in  the 
other  part  of  the  city,  so  I  will  leave  you  here. 
Tell  your  mother  that  I  may  not  be  at  home  in 
time  for  dinner,  so  she  need  not  wait  for  me." 

So  saying,  Mr.  Atherton  turned  into  another 
street,  and  proceeded  forthwith  to  the  spot  which 
had  been  named  by  the  stranger  as  a  rendezvous, 


HERBERT  ATHERTON.  69 

Though  he  had  walked  very  rapidly  thither, 
the  latter  had  anticipated  him,  and  was  awaiting 
his  arrival.  He  seemed  to  have  lost  all  fear  of 
detection,  now  that  he  was  in  the  haunts  of  vice, 
and  said,  in  a  loud  tone, 

"  So  you're  come,  sir ;  that's  well  done  of  ye ! 
There's  a  woman  named  Sally  Brown  who's  in  a 
desperate  taking,  because  she  thinks  her  hus 
band's  going  to  die.  He  got  badly  hurt  in  a 
bout  last  night,  and  I  promised  her  I'd  dog  you 
round,  and  ask  you  to  come  and  see  him.  He 
has  just  been  in  the  brown  jug,  and  is  desperate 
fierce ;  but  there's  a  gang  of  us  as  will  hang 
round  the  door,  and  be  up  with  him,  if  he  tries 
to  hurt  you." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Herbert,  with  a  quiet 
smile.  "  I  do  not  think  I  shall  need  your  assist 
ance.  Why  should  he  hurt  me,  when  I  only- 
wish  to  do  him  good  ?" 

"  Because  we  fellers  here  have  got  a  hatred 
of  everybody  that's  riding  over  our  heads.  I 
wouldn't  have  stirred  a  step,  if  Sail  hadn't  nursed 
me  through  the  fever,  so  I  owed  her  a  good  turn ; 
and  having  got  you  here,  I'm  bound  in  honor  to 
see  you  safe  home." 

"So  even  these  poor  creatures  have  what  they 
call  their  principles,"  thought  the  clergy  man,  as 


70  HEKBEET    ATHEETON. 

he  bent  to  enter  the  low  cellar  to  which  his  steps 
were  directed,  and  passing  through  a  narrow 
entry,  floored  only  with  mud,  entered  as  wretched 
a  looking  spot  as  imagination  could  well  con 
ceive.  On  the  dirty  straw  in  one  corner  of  the 
room  a  fierce-looking  man  was  lying,  dressed  in 
a  shirt  and  ragged  trousers.  Both  of  the  gar 
ments  were  covered  with  blood,  as  was  also  the 
filthy  handkerchief  which  was  bound  round  his 
bushy  head. 

The  moment  the  stranger  entered  he  attempted 
to  rise,  but  fell  back  with  a  low  sound,  resem 
bling  more  the  growl  of  an  animal  than  the  voice 
of  a  human  being.  A  woman  sat  near  him,  on 
a  low  stool,  trying,  through  blinding  tears,  to  tie 
the  shreds  of  what  appeared  to  be  a  child's  apron 
together,  so  as  to  make  a  longer  bandage  for  her 
husband's  wound.  She  was  pale  and  emaciated, 
and  cast  an  uneasy  eye  towards  the  other  corner 
of  the  room,  where  a  little  child  was  asleep  on 
an  old  cloak,  which  was  spread  on  the  bare 
ground.  "With  a  natural  instinct  of  delicacy,  she 
drew  a  ragged  shawl,  which,  with  the  exception 
of  a  petticoat,  was  her  only  covering,  more  closely 
over  her  breast,  and  put  her  finger  to  her  lips,  as 
if  she  did  not  wish  the  visitor  to  say  he  came  at 
her  invitation  He  took  the  hint,  and,  without 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  71 

addressing  a  word  to  her,  walked  up  to  the  couch 
of  the  man,  stumbling  over  an  empty  barrel  and 
a  broken  chair  in  his  way  thither,  and  said 
kindly, 

"  Are  you  much  hurt,  my  friend  ?" 

"  To  be  sure  I  am,  or  I'd  have  had  you  chucked 
out  of  this  room  before  you  had  had  time  for 
palaver.  I  suppose  you  want  a  chance  to  send 
me  back  to  that  old  hole  where  I've  been  buried 
alive  these  two  years  ;  but  I'd  take  off  this  thing, 
and  bleed  to  death  before  you'd  have  me,"  he 
said  jeeringly,  pulling  at  the  bandage  on  his 
head  with  a  threatening  air. 

"  Oh  don't,"  screamed  his  wife,  as,  flying  to 
him,  she  caught  hold  of  his  hand.  He  flung  her 
off  with  one  arm,  as  if  she  had  been  a  baby, 
muttering,  "  Poor  fool !  it  would  be  the  best  day 
you  ever  saw." 

The  woman  rose  from  the  ground  on  which  she 
had  fallen  apparently  unhurt,  and,  turning  to  Mr. 
Atherton,  said  mournfully,  "  He  didn't  use  to  be 
this  way;  it's  injustice  that's  crazed  him.  He 
was  put  in  State  Prison,  when  he  hadn't  done 
any  thing  wrong,  only  taking  the  drink." 

"And  do  you  call  that  wrong?"  he  asked, 
while  his  eyes  flashed  from  under  his  shaggy 
brows.  "  Wasn't  it  to  get  you  and  your  famish- 


72  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

ing  brat  out  of  my  head  that  I  took  to  the  drink  ? 
And  then,  because  I  held  another  man's  coat, 
must  I  be  shut  up,  as  if  I  were  a  wild  beast  ?" 

"Tell  me  what  has  happened  to  you,"  said 
Mr.  Atherton  mildly,  who  saw  that  he  could  do 
the  man  no  good  till  he  became  calmer. 

There  was  real  interest  in  the  voice,  without  a 
tone  of  superiority  or  reproach.  The  sick  man 
looked  at  him  for  a  moment  with  fierce  scrutiny, 
and  then  said  more  gently, 

"  I  believe,  on  my  soul,  you  don't  mean  me 
any  harm,  so  I'll  just  tell  you  about  it.  Sally 
here  and  that  brat  in  the  corner  were  starving 
one  bitter  winter's  night,  and  mad  with  misery. 
I  rushed  into  the  street.  I  met  two  fellows,  as 
wretched  as  myself,  and  they  spent  their  last  six 
pence  for  a  drink  for  us  all,  to  keep  us  warm, 
and  make  us  forget  what  a  dog's  life  we  led.  I 
don't  remember  much  what  happened,  only  they 
went  into  a  big  house,  and  told  me  to  stand  on 
the  steps,  and  call  out  if  anybody  came.  I  heard 
the  watchmen  a  few  minutes  after,  and  then  I 
yelled  to  them  that  somebody  was  coming.  Next 
I  knew  I  had  a  blow  on  my  head,  and  was  tucked 
up  in  a  jail.  The  men  I  was  with  made  off;  but 
it  was  proved  they  broke  into  a  dwelling-house, 
and  I  was  their  accomplice,  so  I  was  sentenced 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  73 

to  State  Prison,  and  dragged  off  without  a  chance 
to  see  Sally.  If  I  wasn't  bad  when  I  went  there, 
I  am  now ;  and  I  only  wish  I  had  a  chance  of 
doing  something  ugly,  to  pay  them  for  punishing 
me  for  nothing." 

"  It  was  very  hard,"  said  Mr.  Atherton  com 
passionately,  for  he  knew  the  maddening  effect 
of  supposed  injustice  upon  some  natures,  and  felt 
a  deep  sympathy  for  the  temptations  to  which 
the  poor  were  subjected.  "  But  you  know,  my 
friend,  there  is  One  who  watches  over  us  all,  and 
you  must  leave  justice  in  his  hands." 

"  In  his  hands !"  exclaimed  the  man,  with  a 
scornfulness  which  chilled  Mr.  Atherton's  blood. 
"  He  just !  look  at  my  wife  and  child,  who  are 
as  sinless  as  babies,  and  then  at  some  of  those 
women  rolling  in  luxury,  who  are  as  worthless 
as  dirt,  and  then  tell  me  about  justice." 

"  There  is  a  world  to  come,"  replied  Mr.  Ath 
erton,  with  deep  solemnity,  "  where  you  will 
have  to  own  that  God  is  just." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  the  man,  shuddering,  "  I 
feel  it ;  but  can  it  be  worse  than  this  ?" 

"  You  know  how  wretched  you  are  here ;  think 
of  such  wretchedness  growing  greater  and  greater, 
and  lasting  forever." 

The  man  gave  a  howl  of  agony  at  this  idea. 


HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

"  Pray  for  me,"  he  said,  "  for  I  could  not  endure 
another  drop  of  misery." 

Mr.  Atherton  fell  on  his  knees,  and  poured 
forth  a  prayer  of  such  deep  fervency  that  the 
eyes  of  the  poor  wretch  were  immovably  fixed 
on  his  uplifted  face,  and  he  involuntarily  re 
peated  some  of  his  heartfelt  petitions. 

When  the  clergyman  arose  from  his  knees, 
however,  the  only  words  which  he  said  were, 
"  Go  now  !  but  don't  come  here  again  till  I  send 
for  you." 

"  May  God  give  you  a  new  heart,  nay  poor 
friend,"  said  the  clergyman,  tenderly  ;  and  then 
without  speaking  another  word  he  left  the 
wretched  apartment. 

The  next  day,  at  a  later  hour,  while  walking 
through  a  narrow  lane,  Mr.  Atherton  was  met 
by  the  same  strange  looking  man,  who  said  hast 
ily,  "  Sally  sent  you  word  that  there  is  no  use  in 
your  coming  again.  The  landlord  says  they  must 
all  budge ;  and  Bill  has  made  her  swear  she 
won't  tell  anybody  where  he's  carried  to.  She 
told  me  to  thank  you  for  her,  and  she's  a  good 
soul."  With  these  words,  the  stranger  disap 
peared. 

Mr.  Atherton  was  grieved  thus  to  lose  sight 
of  the  wretched  man,  who  had  occupied  his 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  75 

thoughts  during  nearly  the  whole  of  the  night. 
He  was  comforted,  however,  by  recollecting  that 
though  removed  from  his  influence,  he  was  still 
under  the  eye  of  an  all-merciful  Eedeemer,  to 
whom  he  most  earnestly  prayed  that  he  might 
be  rescued  from  perdition.  His  mind,  however, 
was  so  perturbed  that  it  was  difficult  for  him  to 
apply  it  to  the  discourse  which  he  had  resolved 
to  write  for  the  following  Sunday  ;  but  it  was 
gradually  calmed  by  reflection  and  prayer,  and 
on  Saturday  evening  he  was  quite  prepared  for 
the  ensuing  day. 


76  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    UNEXPECTED    MEETING. 

i 

"  Speak  gently  to  the  erring, 
Thou  yet  mayst  lead  them  back, 
With  holy  words  and  tones  of  love, 
From  misery's  thorny  track." 

ON  the  Sunday  after  Dr.  Welford's  return,  his 
church  was  crowded  to  overflowing.  "  We  shall 
have  something  very  fine  to-day,  I  presume," 
said  Mr.  Melville,  as  he  showed  a  stranger  up 
the  isle,  whom  he  had  invited  to  listen  to  the  far- 
famed  rector  of  St.  Philip's.  When  the  voluntary 
on  the  organ  ceased,  and  Herbert  Atherton  en 
tered  the  chancel,  there  was  a  universal  appear 
ance  of  disappointment. 

"  A  mere  boy,"  whispered  an  old  gentleman, 
contemptuously,  to  his  neighbor,  who  was  equal 
ly  venerable. 

"  I  wonder  what  our  pastor  means,"  said  a 
lady,  in  a  tone  of  irritation.  "  If  Dr.  Welford  is 
not  going  to  officiate  here,  even  when  he  is  at 
home,  we  might  as  well  go  to  some  other  church." 
This  comment  was  whispered  to  Mrs.  Waterford, 


HERBERT    ATHEKTON.  77 

who  made  no  reply,  and  the  irreverent  buzzing 
was  hushed  by  the  first  words  of  the  service, 
which  were  pronounced  in  a  full,  clear  voice  of 
unusual  depth  and  solemnity. 

The  question  had  never  passed  through  the 
mind  of  the  clergyman  whether  he  would  be 
welcomed  by  the  congregation.  He  was  an 
ambassador  delivering  a  message  from  the  King 
of  kings.  What  was  it  to  him  whether  the 
criminals  to  whom  he  came  with  proffers  of 
mercy,  liked  his  manner  and  appearance  ?  His 
message  was  every  thing — himself  nothing.  But 
his  own  profound  reverence  for  the  office  which 
he  held  insensibly  affected  his  hearers  ;  and  by 
the  time  that  the  reading  of  the  second  lesson 
was  concluded,  a  deep  silence  had  fallen  upon 
the  whole  congregation.  This  was  broken  by  the 
chanting  of  the  full  choir,  which  was  succeeded 
by  the  Creed,  uttered  with  a  solemnity  with 
which  it  had  seldom  been  pronounced,  and  in 
the  following  prayers,  the  responses  were  remark 
able  for  their  fervency. 

When  the  clergyman  ascended  the  pulpit, 
there  was  an  expression  of  curiosity  in  the  faces 
of  many  who  were  present,  for  his  whole  voice 
and  manner  were  so  peculiarly  earnest,  that  there 
was  an  undefined  expectation  that  his  preaching 


78  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

would  be  of  an  uncommon  kind.  His  appear 
ance  may  have  added  to  this  impression,  for 
Herbert  stood  in  the  midst  of  that  crowded 
church  absorbed  with  one  idea,  the  fearful  re 
sponsibility  of  preaching  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 
"  Deliver  me  from  blood-guiltiness,  O  Lord," 
was  a  portion  of  the  prayer  which  he  uttered  as 
he  bowed  his  head,  and  then  he  lifted  his  face, 
radiant  with  spiritual  loveliness,  and  announced 
as  his  text,  as  if  it  had  been  just  breathed  into  his 
own  ear  by  some  invisible  being,  "  Why  have  ye 
agreed  together  to  tempt  the  Holy  Ghost  ?"  The 
subject  of  the  discourse  was  the  sin  of  Ananias 
and  Sapphira,  and  the  inquiry  how  far  it  now 
infected  the  Church  of  Christ.  The  minister  re 
marked  upon  the  fact,  that  the  most  severe  dis 
pleasure  of  the  Almighty  had  fallen  upon  those 
who  were  members  of  his  Church,  and  yet  with 
held  from  him  that  entire  consecration  of  them 
selves  and  their  property,  which  was  their  lawful 
service.  It  was  wonderful  that  a  similar  judg 
ment  did  not  befall  those  who  in  this  age  were 
tempting  the  Holy  Ghost  by  rendering  the  hom 
age  of  a  divided  heart !  The  unholy  union  now 
attempted  between  God  and  man  was  denounced 
by  Scripture,  and  in  direct  opposition  to  the  spirit 
of  the  Church  to  which  they  belonged  ;  yet  many 


HEKBEltT    ATHEKTON.  79 

of  those  loud  in  religious  profession,  reserved  a 
a  large  share  of  their  thoughts,  their  time,  and 
their  affections  for  this  perishing  world.  Even 
in  that  very  sanctuary,  Mammon  was  worshipped. 
Why  was  it  that  they  spoke  exultingly  of  the 
beauty  of  that  temple  ?  When  Solomon  had 
built  one  of  surpassing  glory,  his  feeling  was 
that  of  deep  humility,  and  he  exclaimed,  "  The 
heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain  thee  :  how 
much  less  this  house  that  I  have  builded !" 
Wherefore  did  they  pride  themselves  on  the  pos 
session  of  the  most  conspicuous  seats  ;  would 
their  confessions  of  penitence  ascend  more  read 
ily  from  thence  to  the  throne  of  the  Almighty  ? 
"  If  this  spirit  is  in  the  Church,  it  is  not  of  it," 
he  continued  with  increasing  earnestness.  "  You 
come  up  these  aisles  with  a  haughty  air,  and 
seating  yourselves,  commence  irreverently  com 
municating  your  thoughts  to  each  other,  when 
met  only  to  hold  intercourse  with  the  invisible 
God.  Do  you  not  hear  the  words  proclaimed 
from  the  sacred  desk,  '  The  Lord  is  in  his  holy 
temple ;  let  all  the  earth  keep  silence  before 
him  ?'  and  again,  '  The  sacrifices  of  God  are  a 
broken  spirit.'  Proud  men  and  gay  women 
stand  around  that  font,  as  sponsors  to  a  young 
immortal,  whose  little  frame  has  been  decked 


80  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

with  all  the  elegance  with  which  it  can  be 
adorned ;  but  they  have  come  to  promise  in  its 
name  that  it  shall  renounce  the  c  pomps  and  van 
ities  of  this  wicked  world,  and  all  the  sinful 
lusts  of  the  flesh.'  Why  do  they  thus  agree  to 
tempt  the  Holy  Ghost,  by  pretending  to  conse 
crate  a  soul  to  its  Maker,  and  then  doing  all  in 
their  power  to.  withdraw  it  from  his  service? 

"  '  Love  not  the  world,  neither  the  things  that 
are  in  the  world,'  resounds  in  your  ears  from  this 
holy  place,  and  again  and  again  you  ask  deliver 
ance  from  '  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil.' 
You  have  renewed  at  this  altar  the  promise  of 
your  childhood,  to  renounce  all  its  pomps  and 
vanities ;  yet  you  go  forth  to  strive  for  its  re 
wards,  to  mingle  in  its  pleasures,  and  to  drink 
deep  of  its  spirit.  Oh  my  brethren,  'why  have 
you  agreed  thus  to  tempt  the  Holy  Ghost  ?' " 

It  would  be  impossible  to  do  justice  to  the  un 
studied  eloquence  with  which  these  words  were 
delivered.  There  was  a  deep  and  breathless  si 
lence  till  the  conclusion  of  the  discourse ;  and 
this  lasted  till  the  benediction  was  pronounced, 
and  then  the  congregation  slowly  dispersed. 
The  few  remarks  which  were  made  with  regard 
to  the  sermon  were  the  most  fitting  testimony 
to  its  excellence;  for  men  rarely  wish  to  dis- 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  81 

cuss  that  preaching  which  has  touched  their 
hearts. 

During  the  ensuing  week,  Mr.  Atherton  was 
returning  one  morning  from  a  visit  to  Dr.  Wei- 
ford,  when  he  met  a  young  lady  dressed  in  deep 
mourning  escorted  by  Harry  Melville.  The  lat 
ter  touched  his  hat  respectfully,  but  Herbert 
could  hardly  command  himself  sufficiently  to  re 
turn  his  salutation,  so  much  was  he  struck  by  the 
appearance  of  his  fair  companion. 

"Yes,  it  is  Agnes,"  he  said,  as  they  disap 
peared  from  his  sight,  and  a  strange  giddiness 
came  over  his  brain,  while  a  violent  pain  shot 
through  his  heart.  With  a  strong  effort,  he 
mastered  this  weakness,  and  was  able  to  reach  a 
stage  which  was  just  passing,  in  which  he  seated 
himself,  trembling  with  emotion. 

Mrs.  Waterford  saw,  the  moment  he  entered 
the  house,  that  he  had  met  with  some  agitating 
adventure ;  but  she  asked  no  questions,  and  sent 
the  little  girls  out  of  the  room,  because  they  in 
sisted  on  knowing  why  he  looked  so  ill.  He  only 
said  that  he  did  not  care  for  any  dinner,  and  then 
went  to  his  own  apartment,  where  he  remained 
alone  till  evening. 

Of  all  trials,  that  which  is  most  rarely  appre 
ciated  by  others,  or  indeed  seldom  known  by 


HEEBEIiT    ATHEBTON. 

them,  is  the  struggle  to  overcome  a  misplaced  af 
fection.  Deeply,  earnestly,  Herbert  prayed  to 
be  assisted  in  conquering  his  own  heart;  but  it 
throbbed  tumultuously  with  grief,  and  his 
thoughts  would  ever  revert  to  the  object  of  his 
intense  and  unextinguishable  affection.  The 
very  ardor  of  his  feelings  explained  the  reason 
why  it  had  been  deemed  best  by  Infinite  Wisdom 
that  he  should  not  be  allowed  their  unfettered 
exercise. 

"  I  know  it  is  right,  O  Father !"  he  exclaimed : 
"  I  am  too  prone  to  idolatry  to  have  been  per 
mitted  the  possession  of  my  heart's  desire  ;  but 
oh,  sanctify  her  to  thyself;  deliver  her  from  the 
fetters  of  sin."  Gently,  at  last,  peace  stole  to  his 
heart ;  and  then,  with  a  face  of  calm  submission, 
he  left  his  apartment. 

How  many  such  struggles  are  witnessed  only 
by  the  Almighty  !  seen  perhaps  with  the  same 
approbation  as  the  sacrifice  of  Abraham;  for 
they  terminate  in  the  renunciation  of  the  heart's 
dearest  treasure,  in  obedience  to  his  most  holy 
will. 

That  evening  Mr.  Atherton  called  at  Mr.  Mel 
ville's,  and  was  informed  that  Miss  Cameron,  a 
ward  of  that  gentleman,  had  just  left  in  the 
steamer  for  Savannah.  She  had  only  arrived  in 


HEKBERT    ATHEETON.  83 

the  city  on  Saturday,  having  been  at  the  Springs 
during  the  summer  months. 

"  She  asked,"  said  Harry  Melville,  carelessly, 
"  whether  we  had  met  you,  and  said  something 
about  your  being  an  old  acquaintance." 

Herbert  had  not  sufficient  self-command  to 
make  any  inquiries,  but  the  manner  in  which 
Agnes  was  mentioned  by  the  gay  young  man, 
left  no  doubt  in  his  mind  that  she  was  still  a 
devotee  to  the  world. 

One  night  in  the  beginning  of  September, 
Herbert  Atherton  was  aroused  from  slumber  by 
what  sounded  like  a  man's  footstep  in  the  hall 
which  led  to  his  chamber.  He  knew  that  both 
the  coachman  and  waiter  were  in  the  habit  of 
going  home  to  their  families  at  night,  and  there 
fore  was  startled  by  the  approach  of  a  stealthy 
tread  to  the  closet  which  was  situated  directly 
opposite  to  his  own  door.  He  heard  the  key  turn 
in  the  lock  distinctly,  and  rising  in  haste  threw 
on  his  clothes,  and  noiselessly  opened  his  own 
door.  The  closet  was  open,  and  a  man  was  just 
lifting  down  from  an  upper  shelf  the  wicker 
basket  in  which  Mrs.  Waterford  always  kept  the 
table-silver.  The  robber  was  examining  the  con 
tents,  when  he  distinctly  heard  the  words,  "  Thou 
shalt  not  steal,"  pronounced  slowly  by  a  voice  at 


84-  HERBERT  ATHERTON. 

his  very  ear.  He  started  in  alarm,  and  turning 
round,  saw  a  pair  of  calm,  dark  eyes  fixed 
mournfully  upon  him.  The  sight  of  a  human 
being  seemed  to  be  a  relief  from  the  superstitious 
dread  with  which  the  thief  had  been  assailed ; 
but  there  was  something  still  of  fear  in  his  man 
ner  as  he  asked  in  a  rough  voice, 

"  How  came  you  here  ?  what  do  you  want  ?" 

"  To  save  you  from  crime,"  was  the  reply,  as 
Mr.  Atherton  still  stood  gazing  fixedly  upon  him. 

"  You  had  better  go  back  to  bed  then,"  said 
the  man  hastily,  "  or  you  will  tempt  me  to  com 
mit  another,  and  break  your  pate." 

Mr.  Atherton  took  no  notice  of  this  threat, 
but  asked  calmly,  "  What  tempts  you  to  this 
new  act  of  wickedness,  when  you  have  just  been 
rescued  from  the  jaws  of  death,  my  poor  fellow  ?" 

The  kindliness  of  the  clergyman's  voice  was 
strange  to  the  ear  of  the  midnight  robber. 

"Want!"  he  exclaimed  bitterly,  "wretched 
ness  and  want  are  my  temptations.  My  child  is 
dead  of  starvation,  and  my  wife  is  a  vagabond  ;" 
and  at  this  thought,  he  again  reached  his  hand 
towards  the  basket  of  silver. 

*'  Stop,  my  poor  friend,"  said  Mr.  Atherton  in 
a  voice  of  gentle  authority.  "  Come  with  ine 
into  my  chamber,  and  I  will  give  you  something 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  85 

for  the  supply  of  your  necessities,  which  will  save 
you  from  committing  a  new  crime." 

The  robber  mechanically  followed  the  young 
man  into  his  room,  and  stood  gazing  at  him 
gloomily,  while  he  went  to  his  desk,  and  taking 
out  his  pocket-book,  drew  from  it  a  small  roll  of 
bank  notes.  Then  a  struggle  passed  over  the 
hardened  features  of  the  thief.  He  looked  at 
the  slender,  delicate  frame  of  his  companion,  as 
if  calculating  with  what  ease  he  could  master 
him,  and  possess  himself  of  all  his  money ;  and 
then  his  eye  ran  over  the  gentle,  loving  face, 
which  turned  upon  him  with  a  look  of  deep 
sympathy  and  commiseration.  "!Nb,  I  cannot 
touch  you,"  he  exclaimed.  "  If  all  men  were  like 
you  I  would  not  be  such  a  villain." 

"God's  grace  has  alone  made  us  to  differ," 
said  Herbert,  meekly.  "  Here  are  twenty  dollars. 
I  have  no  more  by  me  at  present,  but  if  they  will 
not  be  enough  to  supply  your  most  pressing  wants, 
tell  me  and  I  will  bring  you  more  to-morrow." 

"  Why  do  you  give  me  this  ?"  asked  the  robber, 
"  to  prevent  my  doing  you  harm  ?" 

"  That  is  out  of  your  power,"  said  his  compan 
ion  calmly:  "you  could  not  really  hurt  me, 
although  you  might  take  my  life.  It  is  for 
your  own  good,  only,  that  I  wish  you  to  take 


86  HERBERT   ATHERTOtf, 

this  money,  which  is  freely  yours,  and  leave  this 
house  in  peace." 

The  sincerity  of  this  reply  reached  the  heart 
of  the  poor  victim  of  sin,  and  warm  tears  moist 
ened  his  swollen  and  blood-shot  eyes. 

"  If  there  be  a  God,  he  will  bless  you,''  was 
his  reply,  and  he  turned  hastily  from  the  apart 
ment,  as  if  afraid  that  his  new-formed  resolution 
was  too  weak  to  venture  upon  a  moment  of 
delay. 

Mr.  Atherton  accompanied  him  in  silence  to 
the  door  through  which  he  had  effected  his  en 
trance  ;  and  then  said,  kindly,  "  ISTow  tell  me 
where  you  live,  that  I  may  try  and  furnish  you 
with  employment." 

"  Employment !"  said  his  companion  in  the 
same  scornful  tone,  which  he  had  used  when 
speaking  of  the  justice  of  his  Maker.  "  Who 
will  give  employment  to  me,  when  they  know 
where  the  last  two  years  of  my  life  have  been 
passed?  Haven't  I  tried  it,  and  didn't  they  spurn 
me  from  their  doors  the  moment  that  was  known. 
Look  at  me !  would  you  employ  a  fellow  with 
such  a  face  as  mine  ?" 

Mr.  Atherton  could  not  deny  that  it  would  be 
a  risk  to  engage  the  services  of  a  man  whose 
appearance  was  so  deeply  impressed  with  the 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  87 

stamp  of  evil ;  but  his  charity  never  failed,  and 
he  said  cheerfully,  "  If  you  will  only  resolve  to 
give  up  what  is  wrong,  your  family  will  be  pro 
vided  honestly  with  bread." 

The  robber  could  not  doubt  the  truth  of  this 
promise,  and  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  said, 
"  You  will  find  us  in  an  empty  carriage-house, 
belonging  to  the  livery  stable,  next  the  Clifton 
Hotel." 

"  I  will  seek  you  there  without  fail,"  said  Mr. 
Atherton.  "  Now  go  home  and  thank  God  that 
you  have  been  saved  from  the  crime  that  you 
meditated." 


88  HERBERT    ATHEBTOff. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

AN   EXPERIMENT, 

"  He  who  finds  a  felkw-mortal, 

His  precious  soul  by  vice  enchained, 
And  brings  him  back  from  ruin's  portafr 
Has  clone  the  task  for  Christ  ordained." 

IT  was  not  strange  that  the  young  clergyman 
passed  a  sleepless  night,  after  the  interview  re 
lated  in  the  last  chapter.  He  was  sorely  puzzled 
to  discover  in  what  manner  to  find  employment, 
for  a  person  of  such  vicious  character  and  habits, 
without  risking  the  lives  or  property  of  others- 
As  soon  as  day  dawned  he  rose,  being  determined 
to  see  the  midnight  intruder  as  early  as  possible, 
so  as  to  give  him  no  time  for  committing  any 
farther  depredations. 

After  commending  himself,  in  a  short  prayery 
to  the  care  of  his  heavenly  Father,  and  asking 
his  aid  in  endeavoring  to  seek  and  to  succor  one 
of  those  lost  beings  for  whom  the  Saviour  died, 
Herbert  proceeded  through  various  winding  lanes 
and  obscure  alleys  to  the  disreputable  neighbor- 


HERBERT    ATHERTOtf.  89 

hood  of  the  Clifton  Hotel.  It  was  difficult  to 
discover  the  spot  to  which  he  had  been  directed, 
among  the  numerous  dilapidated  buildings  that 
crowded  the  filthy  yard  behind  that  den  of  ini 
quity.  Herbert  was  assisted,  however,  by  the 
sight  of  a  well-remembered  figure  entering  a  low 
hovel,  more  fit  for  the  shelter  of  a  beast  than  of 
men.  As  the  door  was  unhung,  the  gentle  tap 
of  the  young  clergyman  was  instantly  heard,  and 
answered  by  a  fierce  inquiry  of  what  he  wanted, 
and  a  command  to  go  about  his  business. 

"  My  business,"  said  the  intruder  mildly,  as  he 
stepped  within  the  door,  "  is  to  see  you,  my 
friend,  and  discover  how  I  can  best  serve  you." 

"  Ah !  is  it  you  ?"  asked  Brown  in  a  now  civil 
tone,  as  he  recognized  the  features  of  his  bene 
factor.  "  Have  you  repented  of  last  night's  deed, 
and  come  to  claim  your  property  ?" 

"By  no  means,"  was  the  animated  reply. 
u  Let  us  trust  each  other  fully,  and  then  we  shall 
have  no  trouble.  I  have  no  earthly  motive  in 
coming  here  but  to  try  and  persuade  you  to  be 
willing  to  live  henceforward  an  honest  life,  and 
then  to  aid  you  in  so  doing.  Where  is  your 
wife?" 

"  There,"  said  the  man,  as  he  pointed  to  what 
Herbert  had  mistaken  for  a  heap  of  old  clothes 

8* 


90  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

in  the  corner  of  the  miserable  apartment,  adding 
more  gently,  "  Poor  Sally  I  We  won't  wake  her* 
She  has  not  slept  so  sound  for  many  a  night  as 
since  I  told  her  of  your  kindness,  and  my  wish 
that  I  could  lead  a  better  life*" 

"  And  you  are  really  in  earnest  in  that  wish  ?" 
said  Herbert,  looking  fixedly  at  his  companion, 
on  whose  face  the  red  morning  light  was  falling 
through  the  large  cracks  in  the  broken  roof  above 
them. 

"  Does  a  man  like  to  have  hell  within  him  ?" 
asked  the  other  fiercely.  "Do  you  suppose  I 
ever  have  a  moment's  peace.  I  learned  too 
much  when  I  was  a  child  to  be  easy  leading  such 
a  devil's  life.  God  knows  what  a  miserable 
wretch  I  am !" 

"  My  poor  fellow,"  said  Herbert,  as  involun 
tarily  he  extended  his  hand  and  clasped  in  it  that  of 
the  felon,  which  was  fairly  shaking  with  emotion. 

It  was  the  first  time  for  years  that  he  had  re 
ceived  such  a  mark  of  sympathy,  and  the  act 
went  to  his  very  heart.  How  warm,  how  soft, 
how  pure  that  delicate  hand  felt,  and  how  quietly 
it  bore  the  rough  gripe  with  which  it  had  been 
seized !  It  seemed  as  if  this  single  motion  had 
more  of  sincerity  in  it  than  could  have  been  ex 
pressed  in  any  words. 


tiERlJEIiT    ATHERTON.  91 

The  best  of  men,  in  approaching  the  vicious, 
stand  as  it  were  at  a  distance,  repelled  by  their 
horror  of  vice.  Herbert  shrank  from  sin  as  from 
a  serpent ;  but  in  the  basest  of  human  beings 
saw  some  fragment  of  the  image  in  which  they 
were  created,  and  owned  his  relationship  as  a 
fellow-creature,  saved  from  like  defilement  only 
by  the  grace  of  God. 

"Was  your  mother  a  religious  woman?"  he 
asked,  after  a  long  pause,  during  which  the  face 
of  his  companion  showed  the  workings  of  strong 
emotion. 

"  There  never  was  a  better !"  he  replied,  be 
coming  still  more  agitated.  "Thank  God, 
she  went  to  her  rest  before  I  became  such  a 
wretch." 

"  Perhaps  she  sees  you  now,  and  is  rejoicing 
that  better  feelings  are  springing  up  in  your 
heart,"  said  Herbert  encouragingly. 

A  low,  deep  sob  was  the  only  answer  to  this 
suggestion,  for  the  tide  of  early  recollections 
which  had  rushed  over  that  sin-hardened  heart 
could  no  longer  be  resisted.  The  poor  victim  of 
guilt  sank  down  on  a  stone  beside  the  door,  and, 
covering  his  face,  wept  tears  of  anguish. 

The  clergyman  stood  by  in  silence,  lifting  up 
his  heart  in  prayer.  He  felt  as  if  the  spirit  of 


92  HERBERT  ATHERTON. 

God  were  very  near,  and  earnestly  asked  that 
his  pleadings  might  be  heard. 

Gradually  the  heavy  sobs  died  away^  and  that 
bowed  figure  seemed  changed  to  stone,  Was  he 
listening  to  the  still,  small  voice  within?  Ah  I 
if  his  ear  could  have  been  opened  to  the  melo 
dies  of  Heaven,  he  might  have  heard  that  sweetest 
of  all  angelic  songs — the  anthem  of  praise  over  a 
sinner  that  prayeth.  For  a  whole  hour  Herbert 
awaited  in  patience  the  result  of  this  fearful 
struggle  with  the  powers  of  evil.  When  his  com 
panion  at  length  lifted  up  his  face,  an  involuntary 
exclamation  of  thanksgiving  burst  from  the 
clergyman's  lips,  for  its  expression  was  as  gentle 
as  that  of  a  child. 

"With  God's  help,  I  will  be  a  better  man," 
said  Brown,  in  a  low  voice.  "  Pray  for  me,  sir, 
that  I  may  keep  this  resolution.  But  not  now," 
he  added,  "  for  I  see  some  men  coming  this  way 
whom  you  had  better  avoid." 

"  Have  no  fears  for  me,"  said  Herbert  kindly. 
"  I  cannot  leave  you  till  we  have  arranged  some 
plan  for  the  future.  Did  you  expend  any  of  the 
money  I  gave  you  last  night  in  providing  food 
for  the  day?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Brown.  "  I  came  directly 
home,  and  have  been  thinking  ever  since  so 


PERBER'l    ATHEliTON.  93 

much  of  my  own  wickedness,  that  I  forgot  I  was 
hungry.  I  do  not  like  now  to  go  out,  for  I  am 
afraid  to  offer  your  notes  at  any  decent  place,  for 
fear  they  will  think  that  such  a  looking  being 
could  not  have  come  by  them  honestly." 

""Well,  then,  here  is  some  change,"  said  Her 
bert,  "for  you  to  get  breakfast  for  Sally  and 
yourself,  while  I  go  home  to  my  own.  I  will  see 
that  she  Iras  a  decent  suit  of  clothes,  and  then 
she  can  procure  for  you  what  you  need,  so  that 
you  will  be  ready  for  employment.  Keep  out  of 
the  way  of  temptation  as  much  as  possible  till  I 
return,  and  remember  that  an  all-powerful  Friend 
is  at  your  side,  and  he  will  strengthen  you." 

His  companion  could  not  utter  a  word  in  re 
ply,  but  he  took  that  pale  hand  again  between 
his  own,  and,  pressing  it  against  his  full  heart, 
looked  up  to  heaven  with  an  expression  of  un 
utterable  gratitude. 

When  Herbert  reached  home  he  found  the 
family  assembled  for  prayers.  Mrs.  Waterford 
was  struck  with  the  animated  expression  of  his 
countenance  when  he  entered,  and  by  the  re 
markable  fervency  with  which  he  uttered  a 
prayer  for  all  such  as  were  troubled  in  mind  and 
tempted  of  Satan. 

At  breakfast  Herbeit  hardly  spoke,  and  seemed 


94  HEKBEKT   ATHERTON. 

to  have  entirely  lost  his  appetite,  for  he  was  pon 
dering  upon  the  expediency  of  asking  Mrs. 
Waterford's  advice.  He  feared  lest  her  repose 
in  future  might  be  disturbed  if  she  was  made  ac 
quainted  with  the  circumstance  of  the  midnight 
visit,  but  decided  at  last  upon  making  her  his 
confidant.  As  soon  as  the  children  had  left  the 
table,  he  gave  her  a  brief  account  of  his  visit  to 
the  Browns  a  few  weeks  previous,  and  then  re 
lated  the  last  night's  adventure. 

Mrs.  Waterford  was  too  sincere  a  Christian  to 
be  much  alarmed  at  any  terror  by  night,  and  her 
thoughts  never  rested  for  an  instant  upon  the 
danger  in  which  she  had  been  of  losing  valuable 
property,  but  were  immediately  absorbed  in  the 
desire  to  aid  Mr.  Atherton. 

"  There  has  lately  been  formed  a  society,"  she 
said,  after  some  reflection,  "  for  providing  those 
who  have  been  released  from  prison  with  suitable 
employment.  I  remember  now  that  I  subscribed 
to  it,  and  that  my  friend  Mr.  Nugent  is  one  of 
the  managers.  I  will  either  go  to  him  myself  or 
give  you  a  note  of  introduction,  and  he  will 
assist  you,  I  have  no  doubt,  for  he  is  a  most  ex 
cellent  and  judicious  man. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Herbert  warmly.  u  I  will 
see  him  instantly,  for  no  time  must  be  lost  in 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  95 

taking  advantage  of  the  poor  fellow's  penitent 
frame  of  mind.  While  I  am  gone,"  he  added, 
as  he  rose  from  the  table,  "  will  you  have  the 
kindness  to  try  and  find  some  clothes  for  Sally? 
I  believe  she  is  in  need  of  every  thing.  But  I 
forgot  that  I  should  want  your  note  of  introduc 
tion." 

"Yon  shall  have  it  forthwith,"  said  Mrs, 
"Waterford,  as  she  followed  him  into  the  library. 

Mr.  ISTugent  was  fortunately  at  home,  and 
listened  to  Mr.  Atherton's  narrative  with  deep 
interest. 

u  The  case  of  this  man,"  he  said,  "  is  that  oi 
hundreds.  On  being  released  from  prison,  there 
seems  no  alternative  but  to  plunge  into  fresh 
crime,  and  it  has  needed  much  study  to  find  em 
ployment  which  might  put  them  out  of  the  way 
of  temptation.  By  your  account,  the  only  breach 
of  human  law  of  which  this  man  has  been  inten 
tionally  guilty,  was  the  attempted  burglary  of 
last  night,  if  he  really  was  in  such  a  state  of  in 
toxication  as  not  to  have  been  conscious  what  he 
was  doing  when  apprehended  by  the  police.  I 
can  well  understand  how,  finding  himself  covered 
with  disgrace  and  suffering  from  want,  he  was 
led  to  this  act,  and  am  not  afraid  to  trust  him 
with  employment.  We  have  just  made  arrange- 


96  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

inents  with  a  railroad  company  to  furnish  them 
with  a  certain  number  of  laborers  to  assist  in 
digging  a  new  road,  some  hundred  miles  in 
length.  "We  have  to  become  security  for  their 
honesty;  but  fortunately  their  temptations  are 
few  when  thus  employed,  if  too  many  of  the 
same  kind  are  not  thrown  together.  We  are 
going  to  send  out  a  car-load  this  afternoon  to  a 
place  about  forty  miles  from  the  city,  and  if 
Brown  and  his  wife  will  go,  they  shall,  on  reach 
ing  there,  be  provided  with  a  comfortable  home 
and  constant  employment." 

"A  most  excellent  plan,"  said  Mr.  Atherton, 
looking  perfectly  delighted  at  the  idea  of  having 
his  protege  thus  provided  for,  a  Removed  from 
his  present  associates,  and  starting  with  a  pros 
pect  of  regaining  his  reputation,  I  have  strong 
hopes  that  he  will  keep  to  his  present  resolu 
tions." 

Mrs.  Waterford  needed  only  a  glance  at  her 
enthusiastic  friend,  on  his  return,  to  be  assured 
that  his  mission  was  successful. 

"  Where  are  Sally's  clothes  ?"  he  asked  eagerly. 
"  Please  have  them  put  into  my  little  travelling 
bag,  and  I  will  take  them  immediately." 

"  Shall  I  not  send  a  servant  with  you  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  "Waterford,  smiling  at  his  eagerness. 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  97 

"Oh,  no!"  he  replied  quickly.  "I  think  we 
should  be  very  careful  about  sending  them  on 
such  errands.  They  might  form  very  injurious 
acquaintances.  Besides,  the  wretched  like  as 
few  spectators  as  possible  of  their  misery.  My 
portmanteau  will  not  be  heavy,  and  I  always 
carry  it  myself  when  on  a  journey." 

Mrs.  Waterford  made  no  further  objection  to 
his  proposal,  but  rolling  up  into  as  small  a  com 
pass  as  possible  the  different  articles  of  dress, 
packed  them  into  the  portmanteau. 

Herbert  was  thinking  so  intently,  that  he  was 
taken  quite  by  surprise,  when  he  again  found 
himself  standing  before  the  Clifton  Hotel.  On 
entering  the  yard  behind  it,  he  was  somewhat 
troubled  at  seeing  Brown's  habitation  closed,  and 
knocked  at  the  door  with  a  sinking  heart,  asking 
himself  if  it  was  possible  that  he  could  have  been 
mistaken  in  the  man's  sincerity.  His  fears  were 
banished  by  the  sound  of  footsteps  within,  and 
the  removal  of  the  stone  which  had  been  rolled 
up  against  the  door. 

"  I  shut  myself  in,"  said  Brown  civilly,  "  be 
cause  I  did  not  want  any  one  to  know  I  was 
here.  How  quickly  you  have  returned,  sir  !" 

Before  her  husband  could  say  any  more,  Sally 
had  thrown  herself  at  the  feet  of  the  visitor,  but 


98  HERBERT  ATHERTON. 

was  weeping  so  violently  that  she  could  not  utter 
a  syllable.  He  raised  her  gently,  and  handing 
her  the  portmanteau,  said, 

*  Here,  my  good  woman,  a  friend  has  sent  you 
some  clothing;  and  while  your  husband  and  I 
go  outside,  for  a  little  conversation,  you  must 
dress  yourself,  for  we  have  no  time  to  lose." 

She  looked  her  thanks,  and  Brown  followed 
Herbert  into  the  yard,  and  heard  with  deep  grati 
tude  the  arrangements  that  had  been  made  by 
Mr.  Nugent  for  his  leaving  the  city. 

"  It  will  be  easier  to  be  good,"  he  said,  "  when 
I  can  see  the  trees  and  the  sky ;  it  is  so  hard  to 
believe  there  is  a  God  in  such  a  wretched  place 
as  this." 

Mr.  Atherton,  after  explaining  fully  the  man 
ner  in  which  his  companion  was  to  be  employed, 
gave  him  much  excellent  advice,  and  placed  in 
his  hands  a  Bible  and  Prayer-book,  which  he  had 
brought  with  him  from  home  for  that  purpose. 
;  Just  as  he  did  so,  Sally  opened  the  door,  and  a 
glance  of  satisfaction  shot  from  her  husband's 
eyes  at  her  altered  appearance.*  It  would  have 
been  difficult"  for  Mr.  Atherton  to  have  recog 
nized  her  as  the  same  person  from  whom  he  had 
parted  an  hour  before;  for,  in  the  neat  chintz 
dress,  gingham  bonnet,  and  tidy  shawl,  with 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  99 

which  she  had  been  furnished  by  Mrs.  Water- 
ford,  Sally  was  a  most  respectable-looking  woman. 

"Here  is  an  order,"  said  that  gentleman, 
"  upon  a  tailor  who  lives  in  Crayton-street,  for 
whatever  your  husband  may  need.  Take  it  with 
you,  and  return  as  soon  as  you  can.  But  stop ; 
you  will  want  some  crockery  for  your  house 
keeping,  and  a  few  little  articles  of  furniture  and 
bedding.  Never  mind,  though,  now  about  them  ; 
we  will  see  to  it  that  they  are  at  the  station- 
house  this  afternoon,  and  the  freight-train  will 
take  them  down  this  evening." 

Sally  looked  quite  puzzled  at  this  address,  and 
said  wonderingly,  "  Where  are  you  going?  what 
are  we  to  do  with  furniture?" 

When  the  poor  woman  heard  that  they  were 
really  to  leave  the  city,  and  commence  once 
more  a  decent  life,  she  was  perfectly  beside  her 
self  with  joy. 

"  You  will  never  be  able  to  buy  what  I  want, 
Sally,"  said  Brown,  who  was  quite  overcome  at 
the  delight  of  his  own  poor  wife. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  shall,"  she  replied,  trying  to  com 
pose  herself,  and  wiping  her  eyes  with  her  new 
gingham  apron.  "  But  it  must  be  all  a  dream, 
a  blessed  dream." 

When  Mr.  Atherton  related  to  Mrs.  Waterford 


100  HEKBEET   ATHEKTON. 

the  delight  of  these  two  poor  creatures  at  the 
very  idea  of  escaping  from  their  misery,  she  was 
almost  as  much  affected  as  Sally  herself.  She 
went  immediately  to  procure  them  whatever  was 
needful  to  render  them  comfortable  in  the  little 
shanty  which  they  were  to  occupy,  and  which  Mr. 
Nugent  had  assured  Mr.  Atherton  was  perfectly 
neat  and  comfortable.  At  two  o'clock,  by  agree 
ment,  the  latter  repaired  to  the  centre  station- 
house,  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  travellers  :  when 
a  tall,  decent-looking  man,  accompanied  by  a  tidy 
little  woman,  entered  the  room  where  he  was  sit 
ting,  and  asked  civilly  for  a  ticket  in  the  second- 
class  cars,  he  did  not  recognize  his  acquaintance, 
nor  was  it  till  the  large,  dark  eye  of  the  new-comer 
met  his  own  that  he  knew  who  he  was.  On  per 
ceiving  his  friend,  Brown  hesitated  an  instant,  as 
if  he  feared  that  he  might  feel  degraded  by  his 
speaking  to  him  in  so  public  a  place ;  but  Mr. 
Atherton  stepped  forward  and  said  kindly,  as  he 
held  out  his  hand, 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  The  cars  do  not  start 
for  some  minutes,  and  we  can  take  a  turn  on  the 
platform  and  talk  over  matters,  while  your  wife 
sits  here  and  takes  care  of  that  little  trunk  in  the 
corner,  which  a  friend  of  mine  has  sent  here  for 
her  use." 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  101 

So  saying,  he  walked  out  upon  the  porch  be 
hind  the  station-house,  and  remained  there  for 
some  time,  earnestly  impressing  upon  his  com 
panion  the  necessity  of  leading  a  life  of  watch 
fulness  and  prayer. 

"I  will  come  and  see  you,"  he  concluded,  "  in 
a  few  weeks  ;  and  I  hope  I  shall  hear  before  that 
time  that  you  are  giving  satisfaction  to  your  em 
ployers.  Look  to  your  Saviour  for  guidance  and 
strength,  and  never  give  way  to  despair.  If  any 
one  discovers  the  history  of  your  past  life,  and 
reproaches  you  with  crime,  you  must  be  neither 
angry  nor  cast  down,  but  take  refuge  in  the 
thought,  that  the  blood  of  Christ  has  blotted  out 
all  your  transgressions,  and  that  he  will  clothe 
you  in  his  own  righteousness.  Fix  your  eyes  on 
the  prize  set  before  you,  not  the  sorrows  through 
which  you  have  passed,  and  may  God  give  you 
the  victory." 

At  this  moment,  the  whistle  of  the  engine  was 
heard,  and  they  returned  therefore  to  the  room 
where  Sally  had  been  left,  and  after  a  few  words 
to  her  of  counsel  and  encouragement,  Mr.  Ather- 
ton  bade  them  both  farewell,  with  a  fervent  "  God 
bless  you,"  and  a  smile  so  warm  and  cheering 
that  it  pervaded  their  inmost  souls. 

Frank  met  his  beloved  teacher  at  the  door  of 

9* 


102  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

their  house  with  a  face  beaming  with  content 
ment. 

"  I  have  got  all  my  lessons,"  he  said  eagerly, 
"  and  written  down  my  Latin  and  my  Greek,  so 
that  you  can  look  them  over ;  and  my  sums  are 
all  done  and  proved." 

"  Bravo !  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Atherton  with 
delight.  "  You  have  done  better  than  I  expected. 
I  was  not  afraid  to  leave  you  for  a  morning  to 
yourself;  but  I  hardly  thought  you  would  have 
been  quite  so  diligent." 

"  And  I  have  played  teacher,  too,"  said  Frank, 
as  he  ushered  him  into  the  library  :  "  mother 
trusted  me  with  Mary  and  Fanny,  as  she  was  very 
busy  ;  and  just  see  what  a  nice  little  composition 
Mary  has  written,  and  how  well  Fanny  can  read 
this  story  in  short  words." 

"  Yes,  do  hear  me,  cousin  Herbert,"  said  Fan 
ny,  as  she  jumped  on  his  knee  and  began  :  "  c  A 
-man-had-a-dog-not-so-old-as-I-am.'  Is  not 
that  nice  ?"  she  asked,  shaking  back  her  soft  curls, 
and  looking  up  eagerly  for  approbation. 

Herbert  kissed  her  glowing  cheek,  and  said 
affectionately,  "That  does  nicely  for  such  a 
little  girl;  now  let  me  hear  what  Mary  has 
written." 

"  Let  me  read  it,  Mary,"  said  Frank  with  quite 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  103 

a  patronizing  air ;  it  will  sound  better  if  I  do. 
Mine  never  seem  so  good  as  when  Mr.  Herbert 
reads  them.  Mary  took  her  own  subject,  sir : 
she  has  given  a  description  of  her  little  canary- 
bird.  You  know  she  is  only  eight,  and  can't 
write  very  plain.  Here  it  is  : 

"  '  I  have  a  little  pet  whose  name  is  Dick.  It 
is  a  yellow  bird  that  papa  once  brought  me  from 
a  warm  country,  where  he  had  been  ;  and  that  is 
why  I  love  it.  He  eats  seeds  and  sugar,  and 
sings  all  day,  and  lives  in  a  cage  made  of  gold 
wire,  which  I  think  is  very  nice.  But  once  I 
was  afraid  he  felt  bad  to  stay  there  shut  up,  so  I 
let  him  out,  but  he  hopped  round  a  little,  and 
then  went  back  again.  Now,- 1  think  he  loves  to 
stay  where  he  is,  and  I  try  to  make  him  happy, 
and  give  him  all  he  wants. 

"  '  God  made  my  little  bird,  and  he  must  be 
very  wise  to  know  how  to  make  such  pretty  little 
feathersT  and  such  bright  eyes,  and  very  good  to 
make  a  little  thing  of  no  use  only  just  to  sing  and 
enjoy  itself.' 

"  There !"  said  Frank  with  delight,  "  don't  you 
call  that  a  nice  composition  ?  I  told  Mary  that 
you  said  the  way  to  write  was  to  take  some  sub 
ject  we  knew  all  about,  and  say  just  what  we 
thought,  and  to  try  and  find  out  some  moral  to 


;4r  HERBERT  ATHERTON. 

it — some  way  by  which  we  might  be  better  for 
thinking  of  it." 

Mr.  Atherton  praised  the  little  ones  sufficiently 
to  encourage  them,  without  making  them  vain, 
and  then  listened  to  their  bright,  pleasant  con 
versation  till  they  were  all  summoned  to  dinner. 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  105 


CHAPTER   VII. 

A    GLEAM     OF     SUNSHINE. 

"  My  every  hope  has  changed  its  name, 

And  flown  beyond  the  grave  ; 
If  thou  art  there,  and  still  the  same, 
No  earthly  love  I  crave." 

"  ARE  you  not  going  to  church  with  us  to-day, 
Harry  ?"  asked  Mr.  Melville,  one  bright  Sabbath 
morning  in  November. 

"  What's  the  bill  of  fare  ?"  was  the  question 
of  his  son,  in  reply,  as  he  lounged  back  in  one 
of  the  large  velvet  arm-chairs,  and  looked  com 
placently  at  the  small  boot  reposing  on  an  otto 
man  near  him.  The  inquiry  did  not  in  the  least 
startle  the  person  to  whom  it  was  addressed, 
though  it  called  forth  an  almost  inaudible  sigh 
from  his  daughter. 

"  Very  good,"  he  replied ;  "  Bishop  !N" in 

the  pulpit,  Signora  Balesdi  in  the  choir,  and  Dr. 
Nathan  in  the  desk,  and  Twining  at  the  lecture. 
By  the  way,  they  say  that  his  reading  is  better 
than  the  last  lecturer  on  Shakspeare  ;  the  one,  I 
mean,  who  has  just  made  his  exit  from  the  stage." 


106  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

"  Rather  inviting,"  said  Harry,  nonchalantly, 
but  when  I  go  anywhere  to  church  I  like  a  little 
variety  from  my  week-day  amusements,  and 
going  to  St.  Philip's  is  only  another  form  in 
which  the  goddess  fashion  is  worshipped  :  I  think 
I  shall  patronize  the  Chapel  of  St.  Barnabas  this 
morning." 

"  Why,  my  son  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Melville, 
who  had  just  entered  in  time  to  hear  his  con 
cluding  remark.  "  You  must  be  beside  yourself, 
to  think  of  going  there.  Do  you  know  the  audi 
ence  is  made  up  of  gamblers,  pickpockets,  and 
sots." 

"  Well,  what  of  that !"  he  replied  in  the  same 
indifferent  tone.  "  Don't  you  say  at  St.  Philip's, 
every  Sabbath,  that  you  are  all  sinners  ?  Where's 
the  difference  ?" 

*'  But  nobody  means  by  this  comparison,"  re 
plied  Mr.  Melville,  drawing  himself  up  compla 
cently,  "  that  they  have  committed  any  such 
enormities.  It  is  understood,  of  course,  that  the 
sins  we  mention  are  not  accounted  such  among 
men  ;  pride,  perhaps,  or  excessive  anger,  or  a 
neglect  of  religious  duties." 

Harry  could  not  help  smiling  at  this  interpre 
tation  of  prayers  so  deep  in  their  expressions  of 
contrition  that  he  had  never  been  able  to  take 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  107 

them  on  his  lips  since  his  childhood,  from  a  con 
sciousness  that  such  repentance  found  no  echo 
in  his  heart,  and  must,  if  sincere,  lead  to  new 
ness  of  life. 

"  You  must  excuse  me  then  henceforth  from 
attending  St.  Philip's,  for  I  must  plead  guilty  to 
being  somewhat  akin  to  the  congregation  of  St. 
Barnabas.  I  assure  you  that  I  am  comparative 
ly  guiltless  of  pride  and  excessive  anger,  but 
gamble  at  cards  and  billiards,  pick  my  neigh 
bors'  pockets  in  a  business  way,  and  if  not  a  sot, 
drink  enough  wine  daily  to  make  myself  one,  if 
I  had  not  been  used  to  it  from  infancy." 

"  How  you  do  talk !"  said  Mrs.  Melville,  im 
patiently,  as  she  finished  drawing  on  her  glove, 
and  turned  to  leave  the  room. 

"  It  is  astonishing,  my  son,"  said  Mr.  Melville, 
"  how,  with  all  the  religious  advantages  you 
have  enjoyed,  you  can  so  coolly  neglect  public 
worship,  and  own  without  shame  that  you  con 
sider  yourself  guilty  of  the  most  disgraceful  and 
ungentlemanly  of  vices." 

During  this  conversation,  Isabella  Melville 
had  been  silent,  but  her  cheek  wTas  flushed,  and 
her  eyes  were  filled  with  tears.  As  her  father 
and  mother  left  the  room,  she  paused  an  instant, 
and  said  very  meekly, "  Dear  Harry,  do  come 


108  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

with  us.  Whatever  may  be  the  interpretation  of 
any  one,  you  will  find  that  the  language  of  the 
Prayer-book  is  adapted  to  the  confession  of  sins 
such  as  yours,  and  I  am  sure  of  your  hearing 
from  God's  word,  and  his  ministers,  truths  that 
can  make  you  '  wise  unto  salvation,'  if  you  will 
listen  in  a  right  spirit." 

"  I  would  like  to  please  you,  Bell,"  he  an 
swered,  kindly,  as  he  rose  from  his  seat,  and 
adjusted  his  collar,  "  but  indeed  I  have  taken  a 
fancy  to  go  to  St.  Barnabas  this  morning.  I  am 
sure  you  will  not  object  to  my  doing  so,  if  you 
think  it  will  make  me  any  better." 

"  E~o,  indeed !"  she  replied,  with  warmth. 
"  May  God's  grace  go  with  you  there,  my  dear 
brother." 

Harry  looked  affectionately  at  her  gentle, 
lovely  countenance,  and  then  kissing  her  tender 
ly,  said  in  a  low,  serious  tone,  "  Pray  for  me, 
Bell,  for  indeed  I  need  your  prayers  more  than 
you  dream." 

A  few  weeks  after  this  conversation,  as  Mr. 
Atherton  was  passing  in  front  of  Mr.  Melville's 
residence,  he  saw  Harry  standing  on  the  steps. 
The  clergyman  paused  an  instant,  and  made 
some  remark  on  the  beauty  of  the  day,  and  the 
grace  of  a  fine  horse,  who  was  impatiently  paw- 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  109 

ing  the  ground,  while  waiting  for  his  young 
master  to  take  his  seat  in  the  light  buggy  that 
had  just  driven  up  to  the  door.  Harry  replied 
very  courteously  to  these  remarks,  and  then  said 
with  more  earnestness,  "  I  wish  you  would  ride 
with  me  this  morning  ;  I  have  had  half  a  fancy 
to  come  and  see  you  for  the  last  week  or 
two,  but  never  could  get  quite  up  to  the 
mark." 

Mr.  Atherton  was  taken  by  surprise,  and  for 
a  moment  hesitated  whether  he  should  accept 
the  invitation,  though  he  was  only  walking  for 
exercise.  Before  venturing  voluntarily  into  the 
company  of  those  who  were  decidedly  immoral, 
he  always  asked  himself  two  questions  :  "  Can 
I  do  them  any  good,  and  am  I  strong  enough  to 
resist  their  evil  influence  ?"  A  remembrance  that 
flashed  through  his  mind  of  having  seen  the  gay 
young  man  for  several  Sundays  among  his  own 
congregation,  made  him  believe  it  possible  that 
deeper  thoughts  were  working  under  his  careless 
exterior,  and  this  he  deemed  a  sufficient  reason 
for  risking  any  remarks  which  might  be  made 
upon  his  public  appearance  in  such  apparently 
uncongenial  society. 

Harry  waited  for  his  decision  politely,  and  as 
he  answered  in  the  affirmative,  remarked,  archly, 


110  HERBEET   ATHERTON. 

"  So  you  think  there  is  enough  hope  of  me  to 
venture  being  seen  in  my  company  ?  I  thank 
you  for  the  charitable  conclusion.  Pray  tell  me 
by  what  steps  you  arrived  at  it  ?"  he  added,  as 
he  seated  himself  in  the  buggy  at  Mr.  Atherton's 
side,  and  taking  the  reins  in  his  own  hand,  dis 
missed  the  groom,  and  drove  rapidly  towards 
the  suburbs  of  the  city. 

"  I  have  thought,"  replied  Mr.  Atherton  more 
gravely,  "  ever  since  we  first  met,  that  there 
was  much  reason  to  hope  that  you  would  some 
day  become  a  religious  man.  This  opinion  was 
induced  by  the  correct  view  you  seemed  to  have 
with  regard  to  Christian  duty,  and  your  frank 
acknowledgment  that  I  was  right  in  giving  a 
decision,  contrary  to  your  own  wishes." 

"  I  did  not  think  you  became  so  hopeful,  thus 
early  in  our  acquaintance,"  said  Harry  with  sur 
prise.  "  Your  charity  must  live  on  very  little 
food  ;  but  I  suppose  you  have  seen  me  among 
your  graceless  congregation,  and  that  helped  to 
keep  it  alive." 

"  It  would  not,  perhaps,  have  done  so,"  replied 
Mr.  Atherton,  "  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  opinion 
I  had  previously  formed ;  for  curiosity  might 
have  sent  you  thither,  or  that  spirit  of  opposition 
which  sometimes  makes  the  votaries  of  fashion 


HERBERT    ATFIERTON.  Ill 

visit  the  most  out  of  the  way  corners  of  the 
earth." 

Harry  smiled.  "  Well !"  he  said  frankly,  "  I 
own  that  curiosity  and  a  savage  delight  in  shock 
ing  my  elegant  mamma,  did  have  an  influence  in 
sending  me  thither,  at  first,  but  I  had  another 
motive  even  then.  Do  you  remember  the  morn 
ing  you  preached  for  Dr.  Welford,  there  was  a 
young  lady  with  our  family  at  church,  whom 
you  had  known  in  Havana,  a  Miss  Cameron  ?" 

"  Was  she  there  ?"  asked  Herbert  with  an  em 
phasis,  which  would  have  excited  his  compan 
ion's  notice,  if  he  had  not  been  busy  with  his  own 
thoughts. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  and  she  went  purposely 
to  hear  you,  for  she  had  almost  given  up  attend 
ing  church  at  all,  for  the  same  reasons  which 
made  me  so  much  of  a  stranger  at  St.  Philip's. 
We  had  been  talking,  that  morning,  of  our  con 
tempt  of  the  pitiable  hypocrisy  of  Christian  peo 
ple,  and  congratulated  ourselves  that  we  were 
quite  as  good  as  many  of  them  ;  and  had  at 
least  one  sin  less  to  answer  for.  We  owned  that 
the  world  was  our  god,  and  did  it  much  more 
laudable  service  than  the  avowed  followers  of  the 
meek  and  humble  Saviour.  I  told  her  I  could 
never  join  in  the  responses  with  a  heart  so  full 


112  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

of  sin ;  and  she  declared  that  if  ever  she  were 
confirmed,  she  should  feel  bound  to  give  up  al 
most  every  thing  in  life,  that  she  now  prized, 
admiration,  luxury,  pomp,  and  pleasure.  We 
chatted  carelessly  on  our  way  to  church,  making 
now  and  then  a  jesting  remark  as  some  splen 
didly  arrayed  lady  made  a  sanctified  nod  on  her 
way  to  the  house  of  worship  which  she  deemed 
most  fashionable,  and  after  we  were  seated  in  the 
pew,  she  pointed  out  to  me,  with  evident  amuse 
ment,  the  Pharisaical  sobriety  of  some  gentle 
man  with  whom  we  had  parted  at  the  opera  at  a 
late  hour  on  the  preceding  evening.  The  mo 
ment  you  entered  the  church,  her  manner  un 
derwent  an  entire  change.  She  grew  very  pale, 
and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  which  she  sought 
to  wipe  away  without  being  observed.  So  evi 
dent  was  her  desire  to  escape  notice,  that  I  did 
not  look  towards  her  till  the  sermon  was  half 
over,  and  then  I  saw  that  she  was  fearfully  agi 
tated.  I  had  not  listened  to  what  you  had  been 
saying  previously,  being  entirely  absorbed  in 
my  own  thoughts,  nor  did  I  afterwards  hear  a 
sentence,  for  I  expected  every  moment  Miss 
Cameron  would  be  obliged  to  leave  the  church. 
She  remained,  iiowever,  till  the  services  were  con 
cluded,  and  then  I  noticed  that  though  she  had 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  113 

not  bowed  her  head  even  on  entering,  she  threw 
herself  on  her  knees,  and  remained  in  that  posi 
tion  till  the  congregation  had  dispersed.  I  felt 
that  my  company  at  such  a  time  would  be  dis 
tasteful,  so  I  did  not  join  her  on  leaving  church, 
and  she  rode  home  with  Bell  and  my  mother. 

"  The  rest  of  the  day  she  remained  in  her  room 
under  the  plea  of  a  headache,  though  my  sister 
told  me  that  she  had  no  doubt  the  sight  of  you 
had  recalled  the  melancholy  circumstances  at 
tending  her  aunt's  death,  and  this  was  the  reason 
why  she  had  been  so  much  agitated.  But  I  have 
been  making  a  very  long  story,  in  trying  to  give 
you  my  reason  for  first  coming  to  your  chapel." 

"  Go  on,  if  you  please,"  said  Mr.  Atherton  in  a 
low,  suppressed  voice,  for  his  agitation  was  almost 
insupportable. 

"Well  then,  to  cut  it  short — Miss  Cameron 
returned  home  the  next  day,  looking  as  if  she  had 
had  a  severe  spell  of  illness,  and  so  she  did  have 
immediately  after  her  return." 

As  he  mentioned  this  fact,  Harry's  voice  trem 
bled,  but  he  mastered  it  and  continued.  "  When 
she  got  well  she  was  an  altered  being ;  at  least, 
so  every  one  says,  and  since  that  time,  her  letters 
to  Bell  have  all  been  of  the  most  serious  kind, 

and  next  April  she  intends  to  be  confirmed." 
10* 


114  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

"  God  be  thanked  !"  exclaimed  Herbert,  almost 
rising  from  his  seat,  while  he  clasped  his  hands 
in  ecstasy. 

Harry  turned  and  looked  at  him  in  astonish 
ment,  and  then  an  expression  of  displeasure  came 
over  his  face.  "  I  should  think,"  he  said,  "  that 
you  were  rejoicing  over  some  of  your  cut-throat 
congregation.  Miss  Cameron  was  always  a  most 
moral  and  excellent  young  lady,  and  I  can  see  no 
great  reason  for  such  marvellous  joy,  that  she  is 
going  to  rank  herself  with  a  set  of  people  who 
are  half  of  them  hypocrites." 

His  words  fell  unheeded  on  the  ear  of  his  com 
panion,  who  was  absorbed  in  the  one  delight 
ful  thought :  "  She  is  saved,  and,  thank  God,  by 
my  instrumentality.  This  is  too  much  happiness." 

Struck  with  his  companion's  silence,  Harry 
again  looked  inquiringly  towards  him ;  but  the 
expression  of  his  countenance  was  more  eloquent 
than  words.  Although  his  large  deep  eyes  were 
full  of  tears,  there  was  a  smile  of  ineffable  sweet 
ness  upon  his  lips,  and  every  feature  was  radiant 
with  rapture.  Harry  gazed  in  wonder  at  such 
spiritual  loveliness,  and  forgot  for  a  moment  even 
the  tidings  which  had  caused  such  delight,  in 
trying  to  conceive  why  any  one  should  thus  re 
joice  over  the  soul  of  another. 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  115 

The  two  young  men  rode  on  in  perfect  silence 
for  several  minutes,  both  absorbed  in  their  own 
thoughts.  Mr.  Atherton  first  spoke,  and  his 
voice  was  as  dreamy  as  if  he  had  just  awakened 
from  sleep. 

"  How  was  Mr.  Cameron  pleased  with  this 
change  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Mr.  Cameron !"  said  Harry  in  surprise.  "  Do 
you  not  know  that  he  died  a  year  since,  and  that 
Agnes  lives  with  her  uncle  ?" 

"  Dead !"  repeated  Mr.  Atherton  mournfully. 
"  An  orphan  !  Poor  Agnes  !" 

"  Her  father  was  no  great  comfort  to  her  at 
the  last,"  said  Harry.  "  He  became  very  intem 
perate  ;  drinking,  it  was  said,  to  drown  his  own 
miserable  thoughts." 

"  Poor  Agnes !"  again  repeated  Mr.  Atherton, 
with  an  accent  of  the  deepest  commiseration. 

Harry  could  not  enter  into  the  sympathy  of  his 
companion  for  a  daughter  weeping  over  the  grave 
of  a  father,  which  could  only  be  rendered  doubly 
mournful  by  clearer  views  of  God's  infinite  jus 
tice,  and  again  both  relapsed  into  silence. 

It  was  nearly  half  an  hour  before  the  conver 
sation  was  resumed,  and  then  Herbert  broke 
away  from  his  own  sweet  meditations  with  ao, 
effort,  and  said, 


116  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

"But  you  have  not  yet  explained  why  you 
came  to  the  chapel  ?" 

"  Simply  to  hear  what  kind  of  preaching  had 
such  an  effect  on  Miss  Cameron,  with  a  half- 
formed  hope  that  it  might  awaken  my  own  heart ; 
for  I  could  not  bear  that  her  religion  should 
make  a  gulf  between  us." 

Herbert  had  been  so  engrossed  with  the  one 
idea  that  the  dearest  wish  of  his  heart  had  been 
fulfilled  to  notice  the  flush  which  suffused  his 
companion's  face  whenever  he  mentioned  Miss 
Cameron's  name ;  but  the  tone  in  which  this  last 
remark  was  made  aroused  his  suspicions.  His 
glance  of  inquiry  was  answered  instantly  by 
Harry's  saying  frankly, 

"  Yes  ;  I  am  deeply  interested  in  that  lady,  and 
if  we  are  separated  now  I  shall  be  most  miserable." 

"  Do  I  understand  that  there  is  any  tie  between 
you  ?"  asked  Herbert  timidly. 

"No  bond  that  could  not  be  broken,"  said 
Harry  with  evident  pain ;  "  but  she  had  given 
me  every  reason  to  believe  that  my  addresses 
were  acceptable." 

A  sharp  pang  shot  through  Herbert's  heart  at 
this  reply,  and  his  face  grew  deadly  pale.  Now, 
when  he  might  have  conscientiously  asked  her 
love,  it  was  about  to  be  claimed  by  another. 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  117 

But  in  an  instant  the  Christian  overcame  the 
man,  and  he  thanked  God  that  she  had  become 
what  he  had  wished^  even  if  they  should  never 
meet  on  earth.  'No  shadow  of  selfishness  had 
darkened  his  earnest  petitions  for  her  salvation, 
and  now  no  thought  of  his  own  loneliness  could 
long  sully  his  rejoicing  over  the  fulfilment  of 
those  prayers.  He  made  at  the  moment  an 
earnest  resolution  to  use  all  the  influence  which 
he  possessed  to  render  Harry  worthy  of  her  love, 
and  then  turning  to  him,  said  kindly, 

"  If  indeed  you  have  won  her  heart,  you  are  a 
happy  man,  for  it  is  a  most  noble  one." 

The  manner  in  which  this  remark  was  made 
dispelled  at  once  any  suspicion  of  jealousy,  and 
Harry  felt  glad  that  his  confidence  had  been 
given  to  one  in  whom  it  had  excited  such  interest. 

"  Mr.  Cameron,"  he  said,  "  left  no  fortune,  and 
for  this  reason  my  father,  though  his  early  friend, 
objects  to  our  union." 

"  But  you  are  in  business  at  present,  are  you 
not  ?"  asked  Herbert,  with  self-forgetting  interest. 

"Nominally;  but  I  have  hardly  thought  of 
practising  my  profession.  To  tell  you  the  truth, 
I  have  been  throwing  time,  talents,  and  education 
all  away.  I  am  heartily  sick  of  the  life  that  I 
have  led ;  and  if  you  can  show  me  how  I  can  be- 


118  HERBERT    ATHERTOJT. 

come  a  better  man,  you  will  do  me  an  unspeak 
able  favor." 

"  Cease  to  do  evil ;  learn  to  do  well.  Is  not 
that  a  simple  rule." 

"And  what  is  to  become  of  the  past?"  asked 
Harry,  who  was  no  longer  endeavoring  to  conceal 
under  a  light  tone  the  real  seriousness  of  his 
thoughts. 

"It  is  to  be  repented  of  and  forgiven  for 
Christ's  sake,  and  then  he  is  to  be  loved  and 
served  for  his  redeeming  mercy.  Open  your 
Bible,  my  dear  friend,  with  an  earnest  prayer 
for  light  on  your  path,  and  a  firm  resolution  to 
follow  its  guidance,  and  you  will  be  led  into  all 
truth.  I  see  that  we  are  nearly  at  home  now. 
Come  and  see  me  very  soon,  and  may  God  bless 
your  endeavors  to  find  him  with  eminent  success." 

Not  a  word  more  was  spoken  till  the  carriage 
stopped  at  the  door  of  Mrs.  Waterford's  house, 
and  with  a  silent  shake  of  the  hand  the  young 
men  parted. 

Mr.  Atherton  went  directly  to  his  own  room, 
arid  the  moment  that  he  had  closed  the  door 
knelt  down  and  poured  out  the  full  tide  of  grati 
tude  which  had  been  swelling  his  heart  almost 
to  bursting.  Time  was  obliterated.  He  stood  at 
the  portals  of  Eternity,  and  in  imagination  Agnes 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  119 

was  beside  him.  What  was  it  to  him  that  life 
divided  them,  if  death  could  unite  their  souls  in 
everlasting  bliss?  Would  he  have  dared  to  ask 
that  his  earthly  happiness  should  also  be  secured 
by  the  possession  of  his  heart's  treasure  ?  No ! 
He  knew  his  own  weakness,  and  thought  perhaps 
it  were  safer  that  he  should  be  intrusted  with  no 
fond  heart  here,  lest  it  should  withdraw  his  heart 
from  heaven. 

"  There  I  can  love  her  with  no  fear  of  idolatry, 
no  dread  of  parting,  no  danger  of  change !"  he 
exclaimed  with  rapture.  "  We  shall  be  forever 
with  the  Lord !" 

Hours  had  passed  before  the  thoughts  of  Harry 
Melville's  affection  cast  a  single  shadow  over  the 
pure  joy  of  his  spirit ;  and  then  it  was  only 
dimmed  by  the  fear  that  her  choice  had  fallen  on 
one  who  could  not  guide  her  loving  heart  aright. 
Oh !  with  what  fervency  he  asked  for  him 
Heaven's  choicest  gifts — that  spirit  which  alone 
could  make  him  a  faithful  soldier  and  servant  of 
Christ  unto  his  life's  end.  The  prayer  was  as 
unselfish  as  that  of  a  sinful  mortal  could  be,  and 
it  entered  into  the  ear  of  the  Lord  of  Sabaotk 


120  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DISAPPOINTED    HOPES. 

"  Beligions  was  the  charm 

I  used  affection  to  entice  j 
And  thought  none  burnt  more  bright 

HABINGDEN. 

MRS.  WATERFORD  soon  discovered,  from  the 
appearance  of  her  young  friend,  that  something 
had  happened  which  gave  him  the  purest  joy. 
In  his  brightest  moments,  there  had  always  been 
before  traces  of  concealed  anxiety,  but  now 
it  was  evident  that  his  cheerfulness  sprang  up 
from  an  overflowing  heart.  Every  duty  was 
lighter,  every  day  more  full  of  hope ;  for  if  one 
seed  sown  in  faith  had  thus  germinated,  might 
he  not  be  planting  many  trees  of  righteousness, 
to  adorn  hereafter  the  garden  of  the  Lord. 

It  is  a  noble  work  to  toil  on  in  darkness,  un- 
cheered  by  hope,  but  oh,  what  a  blessed  relief 
when  a  ray  of  light  breaks  through  the  clouds 
to  assure  us  that  our  labor  is  not  in  vain  !  Now 
Herbert  dreaded  no  future  event,  for  he  had 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  121 

long  felt  that  the  only  incurable  sorrow  that 
could  befall  him  would  be  the  hopeless  death  of 
his  beloved  Agnes.  Often,  in  the  twilight,  he 
would  sit  gazing  upon  the  mouldering  embers 
on  the  hearth,  and  thinking,  with  inexpressible 
pleasure,  of  the  time  when  he  might  enjoy  that 
full  communion  of  saints  which  can  only  be  per 
fect  when  their  holiness  is  secured  forever. 
Then  what  sweet  interchange  there  would  be  of 
thought  and  affection  !  for  here  we  see  not  only 
our  Lord,  but  each  other,  through  a  glass,  dark 
ly  ;  but  there  our  whole  hearts  can  be  revealed, 
fearless  of  displaying  evil,  or  of  unfolding  feel 
ings  too  deep  to  be  understood.  This  was  a 
peculiarly  delightful  reflection  to  Herbert,  for  his 
soul  was  filled  with  strong,  earnest  emotions  that 
he  could  not  explain,  and  in  which  no  friend  sym 
pathized  ;  and  often  the  burden  of  loneliness 
would  have  been  insupportable  if  he  had  not 
been  allowed  the  inexpressible  relief  of  opening 
his  heart  to  One  who  saw  all  its  pulsations,  and 
pitied  its  yearning  for  more  complete  fellowship 
than  this  earth  can  afford. 

One  evening  during  the  week  preceding 
Christmas,  Herbert  was  sitting  in  his  own  room, 
thinking  with  what  thankfulness  he  should  that 

year  welcome   that   ever  joyful  festival,  when 
11 


122  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

Frank  came  in  with  a  letter  which  had  just  been 
left  at  the  door  by  one  of  the  servants  of  Mr. 
Melville.  Herbert  opened  it  hastily,  but  trem 
bled  violently  when  he  saw  a  note  from  Harry 
inclosing  another  in  a  delicate  lady-like  hand. 
Harry  had  only  written  these  few  words  : 

"  I  have  received  the  inclosed  letter,  which  I  beg  you  to 
read.  It  has  made  me  very  miserable.  Pray  that  I  may 
have  strength  to  bear  this  unexpected  blow." 

The  letter  was  from  Miss  Cameron,  in  answer 
to  one  which  Harry  Melville  had  addressed  to 
her  informing  her  of  his  own  good  resolutions,  and 
asking  to  be  considered  as  a  suitor  for  her  hand. 
It  ran  thus  : 


"  Your  letter  which  I  have  just  received  has  filled 
my  heart  with  mingled  emotions  of  joy  and  sorrow.  I 
congratulate  you  most  earnestly  upon  having  formed  a  res 
olution  henceforth  to  lead  a  righteous  life,  and  '  I  pray 
unto  God  to  give  you  his  grace  that  you  may  continue  in 
the  same.'  How  can  we  express  our  thankfulness,  that  our 
feet  have  been  arrested  in  their  downward  course,  and 
placed  upon  the  Rock  of  Ages  ! 

"  One  of  the  greatest  hindrances  to  my  own  happiness 
at  present,  is  the  remembrance  of  the  irreparable  injury 
that  I  must  have  inflicted  upon  others,  in  the  days  of  folly 
and  sin.  How  often  have  I  thought  of  the  Sabbath  morn 
ing  which  we  passed  together,  and  the  worse  than  idle 
words  which  we  then  spoke  !  I  am  most  grateful  to  be  re 
lieved  from  the  fe?1*  of  having  confirmed  you  in  the  ways 


HERBERT    ATHKRTON.  123 

of  evil,  by  the  manner  in  which  I  ridiculed  all  that  was 
excellent.  Xow  that  we  have  discovered  the  plague  of  our 
own  hearts,  we  can  no  longer  wonder  at  the  inconsistencies 
of  Christians,  for  they  too  have  to  struggle  Against  evil 
natures  and  evil  examples  as  long  as  they  live. 

"  You  say  that  I  have  been  the  instrument  by  which  you 
have  been  led  to  ponder  your  ways,  and  that  you  think 
your  future  progress  would  be  insured  if  you  could  always 
be  favored  with  rny  beneficial  influence.  I  may  have  seem 
ed  the  principal  agent  in  arresting  your  attention ;  but  I 
acted  by  the  will  of  One,  who  has  loved  you  with  an  ever 
lasting  love,  and  who,  if  you  trust  in  Him,  will  always 
supply  such  means  as  are  adapted  to  promote  your  growth 
in  grace  and  holiness.  I  should  dislike  much,  to  believe 
that  your  present  resolutions  depended  upon  myself,  for  I 
cannot  give  you  any  hope  of  becoming  your  companion  in 
that  path,  which,  I  trust,  we  are  both  sincere  in  desiring  to 
tread. 

"Do  you  not  find  that  in  the  clear  light,  which  has 
recently  fallen  upon  your  soul,  many  acts  that  appeared 
innocent,  were  worthy  of  entire  condemnation  ?  This  is  a 
discovery  which  I  have  made  in  reviewing  that  conduct 
which  gave  you  reason  to  hope  that  I  reciprocated  your 
affection.  I  was  then  in  the  habit  of  receiving  all  the 
attention  that  was  offered  to  me,  without  ever  asking 
whether  I  was  encouraging  expectations  which  I  could  not 
answer ;  and  when  I  found  that  this  had  been  the  case,  an 
emotion  of  triumph  was  the  only  one  which  was  excited. 
I  had,  however,  a  particular  fancy  for  your  society,  and 
was  not  at  all  sure,  myself,  that  any  proposal  on  your  part 
would  not  meet  with  a  favorable  reception.  You  were 
witty,  and  amused  me,  and  no  hypocrite,  which  pleased  me. 
I  was  aware  that  you  were  idle  and  dissipated ;  but  I  did 
not  expect  morality  in  any  man  but  a  religious  one,  and  no 
.person  who  had  any  seriousness  of  mind  could  consistently 
desire  such  a  trifler  for  a  wife.  Had  my  views  continued 


124:  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

unaltered,  it  is  more  than  probable  that  your  suit  would 
have  received  an  answer  in  the  affirmative,  and  two  thought 
less  lives  would  have  been  linked  together. 

"  How  different  are  my  present  feelings !  Marriage  seems 
to  me  a  momentous  step,  which  will  quicken  or  retard  my 
progress  towards  heaven,  and  which  needs  most  earnest 
effort  and  prayer  for  the  proper  fulfilment  of  its  arduous 
duties.  Moreover,  I  cannot  think  that  there  is  any  other 
justifiable  foundation  for  this  connection  than  a  deep  and 
true  affection,  and  this  you  have  never  excited  ;  nor  do  I 
believe  that  the  best  love  of  which  the  heart  is  capable,  can 
ever  be  called  forth  by  any  one  whose  noblest  qualities 
have  not  been  developed  by  sanctifying  grace.  Still,  even 
were  my  affections  engaged,  my  reason  would  not  plead  in 
your  favor.  We  have  both  the  mournful  past  to  redeem, 
and  its  long-cherished  habits  of  evil  to  conquer,  and  need 
some  one  to  aid  us,  who  is  farther  advanced  in  Christian 
knowledge.  Besides,  we  are  by  nature  impulsive  and  rash, 
quick-tempered  and  easily  led  astray;  and,  therefore,  we 
should  be  in  perpetual  danger  of  drawing  each  other  into 
error.  You  need  a  quiet,  gentle  wife,  rich  in  Christian 
meekness  and  sobriety,  and  untainted  by  worldliness,  whose 
very  presence  will  act  as  a  sedative  upon  your  excitable 
spirit.  I  want,  in  a  companion,  manly  decision  and  calm 
strength,  with  a  dignity  which  can  keep  me  in  awe,  and  a 
force  of  principle  that  can  resist  all  my  influence.  Would 
it  be  right,  then,  for  me  to  choose  one  who  might  retard 
my  upward  progress,  or  to  place  a  stumbling-block  in  your 
way? 

"  I  know  that  you  will  not  think  calmly  of  this  matter, 
now,  and  I  fear  that  you  will  be  tempted  to  return 
to  the  sins  which  you  have  just  renounced.  But  oh, 
think  of  the  misery  which,  according  to  your  acknowledg 
ment,  they  always  occasioned,  and  for  your  own  sake,  hold 
fast  to  the  principles  which  you  first  examined  for  mine. 
Too  much  of  human  love  has  entered  into  your  religious 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  125 

feelings  to  make  them  acceptable  in  His  sight,  who  will  not- 
give  his  honor  to  another.  No  idol  must  -intervene  be 
tween  our  hearts  and  our  Saviour,  or  our  prayers  will  not 
reach  his  ears.  Try  and  think  that  he  has,  in  mercy,  dis 
appointed  your  earthly  hopes,  and  bestow  upon  Him  the 
love  which  has  been  offered  to  one  so  unworthy. 

"  I  shall  not  be  happy  till  I  hear  that  you  have  forgiven 
me  for  having,  apparently,  trifled  with  your  affection,  and 
that  you  are  steadfast  in  your  resolutions  to  lead  a  new  life. 
"Write  and  tell  me  that  you  are  not  angry  with  me  for  the 
error  which  I  so  deeply  deplore,  and  if  we  cannot  be  con 
nected  by  a  nearer  tie,  still  own  me  as  your  sincere  friend, 

"AGNES  CAMEEOX." 


When  Herbert  had  finished  reading  this  letter, 
tears  of  gratitude  sprang  to  his  eyes,  and  he  ex 
claimed  aloud,  "  Blessed  be  God  for  all  his  mer^ 
cies  !  My  Agnes  is  indeed  a  Christian."  Again 
he  perused  the  epistle,  with  the  same  deep  in 
terest  as  at  first,  and  again  he  ended  with  a  fer 
vent  ejaculation  of  thanksgiving. 

The  sight  of  Harry's  note  recalled  the  pain 
which  he  must  have  suffered  from  the  knowledge 
that  his  hopes  were  groundless,  and  this  reflec 
tion  moderated  his  own  joyful  emotions.  "  Poor 
fellow !"  he  thought,  "  I  must  go  to  him  directly. 
No  chastening  for  the  present  seemeth  joyous, 
and  now  he  feels  his  to  be  grievous  indeed ;  yet 
I  know  that  in  the  end  it  will  bring  forth  the 

peaceable   fruits   of  righteousness."     With  one 
11* 


126  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

more  affectionate  glance  at  Miss  Cameron's  let 
ter,  as  he  replaced  it  in  the  envelope  and  put  it 
into  his  bosom,  Herbert  left  his  apartment,  and 
directed  his  steps  towards  the  dwelling  of  his 
new  friend. 

It  might  seem  almost  incredible  that  while  so 
devoted  in  his  affection  to  Agnes,  Herbert  had 
not  even  thought  that  Harry's  disappointment 
gave  him  more  reason  to  hope  that  his  own 
earthly  happiness  might  yet  be  secured.  But 
Christianity  had  so  entirely  triumphed  over 
nature  in  his  heart  that  he  was  for  the  time  too 
entirely  absorbed  in  delight  at  this  proof  of  the 
change  in  Agnes,  to  remember  that  he  had  ever 
had  any  wish  except  that  she  should  become  a 
child  of  God.  Then  Harry  occupied  his  thoughts 
so  completely  that  there  was  no  room  for  the 
intrusion  of  self,  and  he  endeavored  to  devise 
some  way  of  convincing  the  sorrowful  young 
man  that  this  blow  was  dealt  in  mercy. 

Filled  with  such  ideas,  Herbert  did  not  notice 
that  he  had  reached  Mr.  Melville's  house  till  his 
attention  was  attracted  by  the  appearance  of 
Harry  at  the  door.  He  put  out  his  hand  to  the 
latter  kindly,  and  said,  "  I  was  just  coming  to 
see  you,  but  as  you  are  going  out,  we  can  walk 
together." 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  127 

To  this  salutation  Harry  Melville  made  no 
reply,  but  he  turned  towards  his  companion  a 
face  so  startling  in  its  expression  of  misery  that 
Herbert  exclaimed,  "  Do  not  go  out  anywhere 
this  evening.  Indeed  you  are  not  well  enough 
to  stir  from  home.  Come  back,  and  let  us  talk 
over  this  matter  which  has  made  you  so 
wretched." 

"  Thank  you  !"  replied  Harry,  in  a  voice  of 
strange  and  unnatural  calmness,  and  without 
moving  a  muscle  of  his  rigid  countenance.  "  I 
am  going  to  the  theatre,  which  is  a  place  you  do 
not  fancy.  Pray  leave  me  to  follow  my  own 
course."  As  he  said  this,  the  wretched  young 
man  hurried  past  Herbert,  and  with  a  quick  step 
walked  towards  the  neighboring  theatre. 

"  But  you  must  speak  to  me,"  said  Herbert, 
following  him,  and  laying  his  hand  on  his  arm  ; 
"  I  cannot  let  you  go." 

"  By  what  right  do  you  detain  me  ?"  asked 
Harry,  in  the  same  lifeless  tone,  withdrawing 
from  the  pressure  of  his  hand  as  if  it  had  been 
lead. 

Herbert  paused  an  instant,  and  then  an 
swered,  with  a  voice  of  deep  emotion,  "  By 
what  right  do  I  detain  you  ?  By  the  right  of 
fellowship  in  suffering.  I  too  have  loved  Agnes 


128  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

Cameron,  and  know  how  hard  a  feeling  it  is  to 
conquer." 

At  these  words,  Harry  turned  towards  his 
companion  a  glance  of  surprise,  and  as  he  met 
the  soft  eyes  of  the  young  clergyman  fixed  upon 
him  with  an  expression  of  the  tenderest  sympa 
thy,  the  sternness  passed  from  his  own  brow,  and 
extending  his  hand,  he  said,  in  broken  accents, 
"  You  feel  for  me  !  I  see  that  you  do." 

Herbert  took  the  offered  hand,  and  drawing  it 
within  his  own  arm,  led  Harry  back  to  his 
father's  house.  "  We  will  go  up  to  your  own 
room,"  he  said,  "  and  I  will  tell  you  how  truly  I 
can  appreciate  your  present  wretchedness." 

Harry  made  no  answer,  but  led  the  way  to  his 
own  apartment,  and  entering  it,  pointed  to  Her 
bert  a  seat  by  the  fire,  and  then  closing  the  door, 
turned  the  key  and  sank  down  in  a  chair,  per 
fectly  exhausted.  Herbert  saw  that  his  weak 
ness  was  mental,  rather  than  physical,  and 
therefore  offered  no  assistance,  but  inwardly 
prayed  that  this  severe  trial  might  be  blessed  to 
his  soul's  health. 

"When  Harry  removed  his  hands  from  his 
face,  it  was  perfectly  colorless,  and  there  was  an 
expression  of  despair  in  his  bloodshot,  sunken 
eyes.  Herbert  gently  approached  him,  and  lay- 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  129 

ing  his  hand  kindly  on  his  shoulder,  said  in  a 
soothing  tone, 

"  My  dear  friend !  it  is  very,  very  hard. 
Your  Saviour  grieves  to  make  you  thus  suffer,  as 
a  mother  does  to  hear  the  cries  of  the  child, 
whom  she  is  forced  to  wean  from  her  breast. 
He  knows  your  every  thought,  and  pities  you 
more  tenderly  than  I  can  do.  Only  trust  in  Him, 
and  it  will  again  be  light." 

His  companion's  face  did  not  change  at  these 
words  ;  but  he  uttered  a  low  expression  of  impa 
tience  at  the  attempt  to  offer  religious  consola 
tion. 

"  Shall  I  tell  you,"  asked  Herbert,  "  of  my  own 
similar  disappointment,  and  how  I  was  enabled 
to  bear  it?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  his  companion,  without  relax 
ing  a  muscle. 

With  deep  emotion,  Herbert  then  related  the 
history  of  his  acquaintance  with  Miss  Cameron, 
and  described  in  the  most  touching  manner  the 
desolation  of  his  own  heart,  when  he  felt  that  its 
idolatry  must  be  renounced. 

As  Harry  listened,  his  expression  gradually 
softened;  and  when  the  narrator  closed,  his 
mood  had  entirely  changed.  He  rose  and  walked 
up  and  down  <the  room  several  times,  wiping 


130  HEKBERT   ATHEETOIT. 

hastily  away  the  tears  which  now  moistened  his 
burning  eyes,  and  seeking  no  longer  to  repress 
the  deep-drawn  sighs  which  relieved  his  burdened 
heart.  Herbert  watched  him  in  silence  till  he 
again  resumed  his  seat,  and  then  he  said  kindly, 

"  The  day  will  come,  Harry,  when  you  will  look 
back  to  this  hour,  as  I  now  do  to  that  which  sep 
arated  me  from  Agnes,  with  gratitude  for  the 
love  that  spared  no  means  which  might  secure  my 
eternal  happiness." 

"That  can  never  be,"  said  Harry  quickly  :  "I 
shall  never  see  that  this  trial  has  been  to  me  a 
blessing.  It  will  drive  me  back  to  perdition — 
my  blood  will  be  upon  her  head." 

"  Hush,  hush,  Harry  !  you  do  not  ^now  what 
you  say.  You  will  not  renounce  the  hope  of  a 
blessed  heaven  because  you  cannot  choose  your 
companion  for  this  life.  Think  of  the  misery  of 
sin,  and  the  comparative  happiness  that  you  have 
known  since  you  have  endeavored  to  lead  a 
holier  life." 

"  But  my  every  thought  has  been  of  her,"  he 
replied,  with  deep  emotion.  "  The  anticipation 
of  heaven  owed  all  its  brightness  to  the  idea  that 
she  would  share  it." 

"  And  is  not  that  hope  still  left  you  ?"  asked 
Herbert,  soothingly.  "Who  knows  how  short 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  131 

your  life  may  be  ?  and  then  come  the  blessed  re 
alities  of  a  higher  world  and  its  endless  joys." 

"That  is  not  to  me  a  consoling  thought," 
rejoined  Harry  bitterly.  "  My  soul  is  in  no  fit 
condition  to  enter  any  abode  of  peace." 

"Then  you  have  something  more  to  do  on 
earth  than  to  lament  over  your  own  vanished 
dreams  of  happiness.  I  fear,  Harry,  that  the 
work  of  repentance  has  not  been  thorough  in  your 
heart,  or  you  would  more  meekly  receive  the 
discipline  of  a  merciful  God." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Harry,  with  sad  vehe 
mence;  "my  reformation  has  been  most  shal 
low.  I  see  it  all  now.  It  must  have  grievously 
offended  my  Maker.  You  have  no  idea  what  a 
wicked  life  I  led.  Faugh !  The  very  remem 
brance  of  the  scenes  through  which  I  have  passed 
is  disgusting.  Agnes  knew,  me  too  well.  I  am 
not  fit  to  associate  with  any  pure-minded  woman. 
The  stain  of  years  of  vice  is  upon  my  soul,  and  it 
can  never  be  washed  out." 

"  Only  by  the  blood  of  Christ,"  interposed 
Herbert  gently. 

"  I  know  that  his  blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin," 
replied  Harry  more  meekly ;  "  but  it  cannot  blot 
out  its  remembrance  from  the  polluted  soul.  Of 
this  you  know  nothing ;  for  I  am  sure  that  no 


132  HEEBEBT   ATHERTOK. 

man  can  have  the  purity  of  heart  and  elevation 
of  character  which  you  possess  who  has  ever 
mingled  in  such  debasing  society  as  I  have  kept 
for  months  and  for  years." 

"  I  have  not  indeed  been  thus  sorely  tempted," 
said  the  young  clergyman,  with  deep  humility. 
"  My  early  years  were  kept  from  the  contagion 
of  vice  ;  and  God  allowed  me  when  very  young 
to  place  myself  under  the  shadow  of  his  wings, 
where  I  have  since  remained,  free  from  those  as 
saults  to  which  men  of  more  excitable  tempera 
ments  are  so  often  exposed.  But  oh !  I  can  pity 
those  who  have  to  struggle  with  the  power  of 
habits  so  inveterate,  and  a  memory  so  polluted, 
as  to  be  ever  ready  to  become  the  handmaid  of 
sin." 

Again  there  was  a  long  pause,  which  Herbert 
filled  with  one  of  those  silent  prayers  that,  so 
often  through  'the  day,  went  up  to  his  Maker, 
hallowing  every  scene,  and  fitting  him  for  every 
varying  circumstance  of  life. 

Dark  thoughts  were  in  the  mean  time  strug 
gling  in  the  soul  of  his  companion.  Well  might 
Harry  shrink  from  the  view  of  his  own  wasted 
years,  and  those  fearful  scenes  by  which  they  had 
been  disgraced ! 

Herbert  knew  that   his    friend   must  suffer 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  133 

deeply  before  he  could  become  a  truly  Christian 
man ;  but  his  heart  bled  at  the  sight  of  such 
agony.  He  remained  with  him  till  late  at  night, 
and  when  at  last  he  rose  to  go,  Harry  exclaimed, 

"  If  you  will  not  stay,  let  me  go  home  with 
you.  I  fear  to  trust  myself  alone." 

To  this  request  Herbert  gladly  acceded,  for  he 
knew  that  this  might  be  the  turning  point  in  the 
life  of  an  immortal  being,  and  he  watched  with 
fearful  interest  for  the  rising  of  the  day-star  in 
his  darkened  breast. 

12 


184:  HEKBEBT  ATHEKTON. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BERKLEY    TRACT. 

"  But  as  I  raved  and  grew  more  fierce  and  wild 

At  every  word, 

Methought  I  heard  one  calling  *  Child ;' 
And  I  replied,  '  My  Lord.' " 

WHEN  Mrs.  Waterford  came  down  to  breakfast 
the  next  morning,  she  found  Frank  awaiting  her 
in  the  library,  evidently  full  of  some  important 
communication . 

"Who  do  you  think  I  saw  in  Mr.  Atherton's 
room  just  now,  when  I  went  to  ask  where  my 
lessons  were?"  he  exclaimed  in  great  excitement. 

"  I  cannot  even  guess,"  replied  Mrs.  Waterford 
very  quietly,  although  she  was  surprised  at  the 
question ;  for  she  did  not  know  that  Herbert  had 
any  friend  in  the  city  with  whom  he  was  suffi 
ciently  intimate  to  invite  him  to  share  his  apart 
ment  in  that  unceremonious  manner. 

"  Well,  who  in  the  world  should  it  be,"  con 
tinued  Frank,  "but  that  dissipated  dandy  Mr. 
Harry  Melville,  who  is  always  lounging  about 
the  hotels,  or  driving  tandem  around  the  Park<n 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  135 

"  My  son,  I  am  astonished  to  hear  you  speak 
so  of  any  gentleman,  especially  of  a  guest  of 
mine,  and  a  friend  of  Mr.  Atkerton,"  said  Mrs. 
Waterford,  seriously. 

"  ISTow,  mother,  that  is  too  bad,  to  call  such  a 
fellow  a  friend  of  his,  when  you  know  how  good 
he  is,"  exclaimed  Frank,  reddening  with  indig 
nation. 

"  Pray  don't  allow  yourself  to  become  so 
much  excited  by  a  trifle,  my  dear.  Do  you  re 
member  who  was  once  reproached  with  being 
the  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners  ?  Mr.  Ath- 
erton  is  a  true  servant  of  his  Divine  Master,  and 
with  whomsoever  he  may  associate,  be  assured 
that  his  chief  object  is  to  do  them  good." 

c;  I  know  that,  mother,  but  I  cannot  bear  to 
have  him  go  with  a  fellow  that  I  heard  aunt 
Mary  tell  cousin  James  was  not  fit  company  for 
him,"  said  Frank. 

"  That  might  be,"  replied  his  mother,  "  for 
James  is  very  easily  led  astray ;  but  Mr.  Ath- 
erton  can  associate  with  Mr.  Melville,  I  assure 
you,  without  endangering  either  his  character  or 
his  reputation." 

The  conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  the  persons  of  whom  they  were 
speaking,  and  when  Mrs.  Waterford  saw  Harry 


136  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

Melville  haggard  with  sleeplessness  and  excite 
ment,  she  did  not  wonder  that  this  new  intimacy 
had  surprised  Frank.  She  received  the  guest, 
however,  with  great  cordiality,  and  handed  him 
a  seat  near  the  fire,  while  Herbert  placed  him 
self  at  the  table,  to  read  the  morning  lesson. 

The  psalm  for  the  day  was  one  with  which 
Harry  was  well  acquainted  ;  why  did  it  seem  to 
him  now  so  peculiarly  full  of  meaning  ?  Sunday 
after  Sunday  he  had  heard  the  familiar  words, 
"  Bless  the  Lord,  oh,  my  soul,  and  all  that  is 
within  me,  bless  his  holy  name  ;"  why  then  did 
he  feel  as  if  listening  to  a  new  revelation  con 
cerning  the  character  of  the  Almighty  when  he 
heard  the  announcement, 

"  The  Lord  is  full  of  compassion  and  mercy, 
of  long  suffering,  and  of  great  goodness.  He 
will  not  always  be  chiding,  neither  keepeth  he 
his  anger  forever.  He  hath  not  dealt  with  us 
after  our  sins,  nor  rewarded  us  according  to  our 
wickednesses.  For  look  how  high  the  heaven  is 
in  comparison  of  the  earth  I  so  great  is  his  mercy 
also  towards  them  that  fear  hinu  Look  how 
wide  also  the  east  is  from  the  west !  so  far  hath 
he  set  our  sins  from  us.  Yea,  like  as  a  father 
pitieth  his  children,  so  is  the  Lord  merciful  unto 
them  that  fear  him.  For  be  knoweth  whereof 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  137 

we  are  made ;  he  remembereth  that  we  are  but 
dust," 

The  tender  assurances  which  this  psalm  con 
tained  of  the  love  and  forgiveness  of  the  Al 
mighty,  and  the  child-like  confidence  with  which 
Herbert  approached  his  heavenly  Father,  tran- 
quilized  the  heart  of  the  now  truly  penitent 
youDg  man,  and  he  joined  in  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  exercises,  with  deep 
earnestness  and  humility. 

"  Are  you  fond  of  children  ?"  asked  Herbert, 
as  he  saw  that  his  new  friend  was  trying  to  wile 
little  Fanny  to  his  side,  while  they  were  await 
ing  a  summons  to- breakfast. 

"  Very  much  so ;  I  only  wish  that  they  had 
always  been  with  me,"  replied  Harry,  as  he 
placed  the  little  girl  on  his  knee,  and  put  his 
arm  affectionately  around  her.  The  young,  fair 
head,  with  its  soft  curls,  leaning  so  confidingly 
on  his  breast,  seemed  to  warm  his  very  heart, 
and  pressing  her  closer  to  his  side,  he  wished 
that  it  were  possible  to  regain  the  bliss  of  child 
like  innocence. 

"  Are  not  your  eyes  very  weak?"  asked  Fanny, 
as  she  looked  up  inquiringly  to  the  softened 
countenance  of  her  new  friend. 

He  smiled,  as  he  brushed  away  the  unconscious 
12* 


138  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

tear  which  had  drawn  forth  the  question,  and 
said  gently,  "  Sometimes  they  are  very  weak, 
when  I  look  at  dear  little  children." 

Before  Fanny  could  inquire  what  was  meant 
by  this  remark,  breakfast  was  announced.  "When 
the  family  were  seated  at  the  table,  Mrs.  Water- 
ford  observed,  turning  to  Herbert, 

"I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you  to-day,  for 
Frank.  Will  you  allow  his  holidays  to  com 
mence  this  morning  ?  He  then  will  be  able  to 
pay  a  visit  to  his  uncle  at  Holmwood,  and  return 
in  time  to  spend  Christmas  here." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Herbert,  with  a  grateful 
smile,  for  he  saw  that  Mrs.  Waterford,  with 
womanly  tact,  had  divined  that  this  arrangement 
would  be  as  much  for  his  convenience  as  for  the 
pleasure  of  her  son.  "  I  will  take  him  to  Holm- 
wood  myself  this  morning,"  he  added  ;  "  for  it  is 
on  the  road  to  the  Berkley  Tract,  where  the 
Browns  are  living  ;  and  I  had  been  for  some  time 
anxious  to  pay  them  a  visit.  You  will  go  with 
us,  Harry,  will  you  not?" 

"  That  depends  upon  who  the  Browns  are, 
though  I  am  in  a  mood  for  doing  any  thing  that 
you  wish  this  morning,"  said  Harry,  looking  at 
the  young  clergyman  with  such  mingled  respect 
and  affection,  that  Frank  inwardly  forgave  him 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  139 

for  aspiring  to  the  friendship  of  his  beloved  pre 
ceptor. 

"Well  then,  Frank,"  continued  Mr.  Atherton, 
"  with  your  mother's  consent,  I  will  then  set  you 
down  at  Holinwood.  You  must  be  ready  to  start 
at  ten  o'clock." 

During  the  ride  to  Holmwood,  Herbert  de 
voted  himself  to  his  pupil ;  but  when  he  had  de 
posited  Frank  at  that  place,  he  seated  himself  by 
Harry,  and  gave  him  an  account  of  the  Browns. 
He  did  not,  however,  mention  the  midnight  visit 
to  the  dwelling  of  Mrs.  "Waterford,  as  he  had 
promised  that  this  should  remain  a  secret.  His 
auditor  listened  with  much  interest  to  the  narra 
tive,  and  was  curious  to  learn  what  had  been  the 
result  of  the  philanthropic  experiment  proposed 
by  Mr.  Nugent. 

"  You  must  not  expect  to  find  that  Tom's  refor 
mation  is  yet  perfect,"  said  Herbert,-  "  for  he  has 
much  to  struggle  against,  and  we  can  only  hope 
for  gradual  improvement." 

"  I  certainly  shall  not  expect  an  entire  change," 
replied  Harry,  with  deep  humility  ;  "  for,  after 
months  of  effort,  I  have  only  just  begun  to  see 
the  depths  of  my  own  wickedness." 

"You  have  taken  one  very  important  step 
towards  amendment,"  said  Herbert,  encouraging- 


140  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

ly,  "if  you  have  become  fully  convinced  that 
your  own  depravity  is  fathomless.  I  hope  that 
this  visit  to  poor  Tom  will  cheer  you  ;  for  I  trust 
that  he  will,  at  least,  be  able  to  say  that  he  is 
happier  in  struggling  for  good  than  yielding  to 
evil." 

The  spot  on  which  the  travellers  alighted  was 
a  cold,  dreary-looking  plain.  The  only  habita 
tions  visible  were  a  few  straggling  shanties, 
rudely  built;  and  these  would  have  seemed  de 
serted  were  it  not  for  the  thin  wreaths  of  smoke 
which  rose  from  their  solitary  chimneys. 

"  One  of  these  must  be  Tom's,"  said  Herbert, 
as  he  directed  his  steps  towards  the  nearest 
cabin. 

"  He  must  have  been  in  a  wretched  plight 
before,  if  his  present  abode  is  an  improvement," 
said  Harry,  as,  shivering,  he  buttoned  his  light 
overcoat  more  closely  over  his  breast. 

On  knocking  at  the  door  of  this  humble  dwell 
ing,  it  was  opened  by  a  pleasant,  tidy-looking 
woman,  whom  Mr.  Atherton  at  once  recognized 
as  an  old  acquaintance.  As  soon  as  Sally  Brown 
became  aware  who  her  visitor  was,  her  face 
lighted  up  with  joy,  and  she  exclaimed, 

"  Oh  sir,  is  it  you  !  How  good  in  you  to  come 
so  far  to  see  us.  Walk  in  !  I  am  so  glad  you 


HERBERT  ATHERTON.  141 

have  come,  for  I  wanted  you  to  know  how  happy 
you  had  made  us  !" 

The  apartment  into  which  Herbert  and  his 
friend  were  ushered  was  the  only  one  that  the 
cabin  contained ;  but  it  was  perfectly  neat  and 
comfortable.  The  rude  bed,  in  one  corner,  was 
covered  with  sheets  of  irreproachable  whiteness, 
and  the  table,  in  the  other,  was  set  for  two  per- ' 
sons,  with  a  scrupulous  regard  to  order.  But  the 
object  which  attracted  the  attention  of  Mr. 
Atherton  was  a  small  pine  stand,  on  which  lay 
a  Bible  and  Prayer-book.  Sally  saw  the  direc 
tion  of  his  eyes,  and  said  gratefully, 

"  Oh  !  those  blessed  books  !  What  a  comfort 
they  have  been  to  us  !  Tom  reads  in  them  in  the 
morning,  before  he  goes  to  his  work,  and  at  night 
when  he  comes  home ;  and  that  helps  us  to  get 
through  the  week." 

Herbert's  fine  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure  at 
this  information. 

"  Is  Tom  at  work  far  from  here  ?"  he  asked ; 
"  for  our  stay  must  be  short." 

"  Quite  a  piece,  sir,"  she  replied  ;  "  but  he  will 
be  home  in  a  moment  to  dinner.  You  must  be 
hungry  yourselves,  gentlemen,  and  I  hope  you'll 
share  his  bit  with  him." 

Young  Melville  was  rather  annoyed  at  this  in- 


142  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

vitation ;  for  dining  with  a  burglar  in  such  a 
shanty  was  a  new  sort  of  entertainment,  not  quite 
adapted  to  please  his  fastidious  taste ;  but  Her 
bert  answered  cordially, 

"To  be  sure  we  will.  That  piece  of  bacon 
which  I  see  thumping  against  the  kettle  cover, 
as  it  boils,  will  be  very  acceptable  after  our  cold 
ride." 

"  There  he  comes  I"  exclaimed  Sally,  as  she 
rushed  out  of  the  house  to  announce  to  her  hus 
band  the  joyful  intelligence  of  Mr.  Atherton's 
visit. 

Herbert  was  well  aware  of  the  effect  of  expres 
sion  upon  the  human  countenance ;  but  still  he 
was  not  prepared  for  the  manifest  improvement 
in  the  whole  appearance  of  Tom  Brown.  His 
brutal  ferocity  of  manner  had  entirely  disap 
peared,  leaving  only  an  air  of  manly  indepen 
dence  ;  and  his  voice  was  even  gentle  in  its  tone, 
as  he  said  with  much  emotion, 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  what  I  feel  at  seeing  you. 
Only  remember  what  we  were  when  you  first 
knew  us,  and  you  can  imagine  how  grateful  we 
ought  to  be  to  God  and  to  you,  sir.  Every  mor 
sel  of  bread  is  sweeter  from  knowing  that  it  is 
honestly  earned." 

"  The  gentlemen,  perhaps,  will  taste  some  of  it 


HERBERT  AtflERTON. 

now,"  said  Sally,  as  she  put  the  smoking  potatoes 
and  bacon  upon  the  table,  and  placed  two  wooden 
chairs  for  the  guests. 

Harry  declined  the  invitation,  but  it  was  not 
pride  which  now  prevented  its  acceptance.  His 
heart  had  been  too  much  touched  by  the  sight  of 
Brown  and  his  gratitude,  for  him  to  remember 
that  there  was  any  social  distinction  between 
them. 

"Don't  mind  Mr.  Melville,"  said  Herbert 
pleasantly.  "  He  is  used  to  late  dinners,  and 
will  find  his  own  ready  when  we  return  to  town. 
Sit  down,  Tom,  for  I  know  that  you  have  not 
long  to  spare." 

""Will  you  ask  a  blessing,  sir,"  said  Tom  re 
spectfully,  before  seating  himself  in  the  vacant 
chair  opposite  to  the  young  clergyman. 

Herbert  complied  instantly  with  this  request, 
and  added  a  few  words  of  thanksgiving  to  Him 
who  had  called  these,  his  children,  out  of  dark 
ness  into  light,  commending  them  for  the  future 
to  his  never-failing  guidance  and  protection. 

Tom  could  not  help  remembering  the  time 
when  he  had  first  heard  that  voice  in  prayer,  and 
was  overcome  by  a  deep  sense  of  the  mercy  of 
God  in  having  thus  saved  him  from  destruc 
tion. 


144  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

"Is  there  any  church  near  you?"  asked  Mr. 
Atherton,  when  Sally  had  dried  up  the  tears  in 
which  her  agitated  feelings  had  at  length  found 
relief. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  said ;  "  only  about  two  miles 
off,  and  we  always  go  to  it  on  Sunday.  The 
minister  has  been  to  see  us  several  times,  and  he 
talks  so  plain  that  we  can  understand  every  word 
that  he  says." 

"  And  is  it  always  easy  to  do  right  now,  Tom  ?" 
asked  Herbert,  more  for  the  benefit  of  his  friend 
than  for  his  own  information. 

Tom  sighed  deeply  as  he  answered, 

"  Oh  no !  Doing  right  will  always  be  uphill 
work  for  me,  I  fear ;  but  it  gets  something  easier, 
and  I  am  so  busy  at  work  now  that  I  don't  have 
much  time  to  get  into  mischief.  Then  my  old 
woman  here  is  so  happy,  that  I  really  can't  have 
the  heart  to  do  any  thing  to  vex  her.  She's 
picked  up  wonderfully,  hasn't  she  ?  A  faithful 
wife  Sally's  been  to  me." 

This  heartfelt  testimony  to  her  own  worth 
made  Sally  apply  the  corner  of  her  apron  to  her 
eyes  again ;  but  Mr.  Atherton  diverted  her 
thoughts  by  taking  from  his  pocket  a  package 
that  contained  a  number  of  excellent  tracts,  and 
some  nice  warm  stockings,  which  were  a  present 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  145 

from  Mrs.  Waterford.  As  he  did  so,  the  whistle 
of  the  locomotive  was  heard  in  the  distance,  and 
with  a  kind  farewell  to  their  humble  friends,  the 
gentlemen  hurried  to  the  cars. 

While  returning  to  the  city,  Herbert  and  his 
companion  preserved  an  almost  unbroken  silence. 
The  latter  was  reflecting  deeply  upon  the  scene 
they  had  left,  and  the  purifying  effects  of  Chris 
tianity.  During  the  last  night  his  whole  life  had 
passed  in  review  before  him,  and  he  was  over 
whelmed  by  the  conviction  that  most  of  his  sins 
had  inflicted  even  more  injury  upon  others 
than  upon  himself.  To  how  many  of  his  fellow- 
beings  who  were  now  beyond  the  reach  of  his 
influence,  had  he  given  the  first  impulse  in  that 
downward  course  which  had  ended  in  their  per 
dition  ?  Fearful  thought!  No  wonder  that  it 
blanched  his  cheek  with  horror. 

"And  this  man,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  has  been 
imprisoned  for  two  years,  for  a  crime,  lighter 
perhaps  in  the  sight  of  his  Maker,  than  those 
which  I  daily  committed !  And  I  who  am  stained 
with  the  blood  of  souls,  walk  at  large  in  the  very 
society  for  whose  good  he  was  condemned  to 
punishment.  True,  he  violated  human  law,  and 
therefore  rightly  suffered  its  penalty  ;  but  surely, 
in  another  world,  God  will  visit  with  heavier  dis 

13 


146  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

pleasure  those  sins  for  which  there  is  here  no 
retribution.  Poor  Mary  Harris  !  I  wish  she  would 
not  haunt  me  thus,  reproaching  me  as  her  de 
stroyer.  It  is  a  wonder  that  I  have  not  been  cut 
off  in  the  midst  of  my  sins.  Blessed  be  God 
that  he  <  hath  not  rewarded  me  according  to  my 
wickedness.'  r 

Herbert's  reflections  were  of  a  brighter  charac 
ter.  Since  the  perusal  of  Miss  Cameron's  letter, 
he  had  been  so  much  engrossed  in  Harry,  that 
he  had  not  been  able  to  dwell  upon  its  contents ; 
but  now,  he  abandoned  himself  to  the  delightful 
thought  that  his  beloved  Agnes  was  not  only  a 
Christian,  but  free  in  heart  and  hand.  Yet,  how 
could  he  become  a  suitor  for  the  latter,  when  in 
no  situation  to  provide  for  the  comfort  of  another? 
For  the  first  time,  he  wished  that  he  were  settled 
in  a  permanent  home,  and  in  receipt  of  a  salary- 
adequate  to  the  maintenance  of  a  family.  But 
this  thought  hardly  overshadowed  his  joy,  for  he 
felt  assured  that  if  Providence  intended  that  his 
earthly  pilgrimage  should  be  cheered  by  her  so 
ciety,  all  obstacles  to  their  union  would  be  re 
moved.  Besides,  it  would  be  useless  to  suffer 
any  annoyance  on  this  account,  when  it  was  en 
tirely  uncertain  whether  Agnes  ever  had  felt,  or 
ever  would  feel  for  him  that  degree  of  affection 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  14:7 

which  she  believed  to  be  indispensable  to  the 
happiness  of  any  marriage. 

Herbert  had  learned  from  long  experience, 
that  it  is  impossible  to  ponder  upon  the  possible 
issue  of  future  events,  without  becoming  involved 
in  anxiety  and  sadness,  and  that  the  insecurity  of 
all  earthly  happiness  makes  its  anticipation, 
sometimes,  almost  a  pain.  He  therefore  ban 
ished  from  his  mind  all  questionings  as  to  what 
might  be  his  earthly  lot,  and  passed  in  thought 
to  that  only  future  upon  which  the  soul  can  re 
pose  in  full  security.  It  was  sweeter  to  him,  to 
dwell  on  an  eternity  of  love  in  the  presence  of 
his  blessed  Saviour,  than  to  think  of  a  few  fleet 
ing  years  of  checkered  joy  and  sorrow,  termi 
nating,  at  last,  in  death. 

As  these  two  young  men,  so  near  in  age,  and 
so  equal  in  intellectual  advantages,  thus  sat  side 
by  side,  absorbed  in  meditation,  their  counte 
nances  might  have  seemed  as  indexes  to  their 
varied  trains  of  thought.  Harry's  face  was  as 
dark  and  as  changeful  as  the  sky  when  the  clouds 
of  a  late  storm  are  drifting  over  it,  while  on  Her 
bert's  calm  brow  there  dwelt  the  untroubled  se 
renity  of  heaven's  own  azure  depths.  But,  as 
time  passed  on,  Harry's  countenance  brightened, 
and  one  might  almost  see  "  the  tempest  passing 


148  HERBERT    ATHERTON, 

by,  as  evening  shadows  quickly  fly,"  and  hope 
that  the  hour  was  near  when  his  heart,  too, 
would  be  filled  with  tranquillity  and  content 
ment. 

"  Is  it  possible  we  are  here  ?"  he  asked,  as  the 
cars  entered  the  depot.  "What  a  short  ride  ! 
"We  must  part  now,  Mr.  Atherton,  for  I  have 
already  trespassed  too  long  upon  your  society, 
and  I  hope  that  for  a  time,  at  least,  I  shall  be 
safe  in  my  own.  There  is  much  evil  that  may 
yet  be  undone,  and  life  is  too  short  for  me  to 
waste  another  moment.  I  shall  come  and  see 
you  again  as  soon  as  I  can,  and  in  the  mean  time 
pray  for  me." 

A  silent  pressure  of  the  hand  was  Mr.  Ather- 
ton's  only  reply ;  but  he  followed  the  retreating 
form  of  the  young  man  with  a  glance  of  deep  in 
terest  and  affection ;  and  then,  with  a  heart  over 
flowing  with  gratitude,  he  directed  his  own  steps 
towards  the  hospitable  dwelling  of  Mrs,  Water- 
ford,  which  was  to  him  the  most  delightful  of 
homes. 


HERBERT  ATHERTON.  149 


CHAPTER    X. 


"  If  I  had  not  lived  for  thee, 
Thou  hadst  died  most  wretchedly."— HERBERT. 

IN  approaching  the  village  of  Holmwood,  Her- 
bert  had  been  attracted  by  the  appearance  of  an 
edifice  which  Frank  had  informed  him  was  the 
new  Episcopal  church.  It  was  a  Gothic  struc 
ture,  built  of  rough  stone,  in  the  early  English 
style ;  and  though  simple  and  comparatively  un- 
expensive,  it  was  capacious  and  substantial.  The 
rectory  adjoining  displayed  the  same  union  of 
judgment  and  taste;  and  both  buildings  were 
surrounded  by  beautiful  evergreens,  which  gave 
them,  even  in  the  depth  of  winter,  a  cheerful  and 
attractive  aspect. 

The  congregation  for  whose  use  this  edifice 
had  been  erected,  was  chiefly  composed  of  per 
sons  who  were  employed  in  the  neighboring 
manufactories,  or  engaged  in  agricultural  pur 
suits.  There  were,  however,  a  few  gentlemen 
belonging  to  the  parish  who  occupied  the  adja- 

13* 


150  HERBERT    ATHERTON, 

cent  country-seats,  but  transacted  business  in  the 
city,  which  was  only  a  few  miles  distant.  Among 
these  gentlemen  Mr.  James  Waterford  was  alike 
conspicuous  for  the  soundness  of  his  churchman- 
ship  and  the  fervor  of  his  piety.  To  him  had 
been  intrusted  the  supervision  of  the  new  church, 
which  owed  much  to  his  cultivated  taste  and 
liberal  contributions.  There  now  devolved  upon 
him  the  still  more  arduous  task  of  selecting  a 
rector,  though  the  responsibility  was  nominally 
shared  by  the  three  other  members  of  the  com 
mittee  appointed  for  that  purpose. 

In  order  to  judge  of  the  intellectual  capacity 
of  different  clergymen,  Mr.  Waterford  had  re 
cently  spent  several  Sundays  in  town,  and  on  one 
of  these  he  attended  service  at  the  Chapel  of  St. 
Barnabas.  The  discourse  to  which  he  listened 
seemed  to  his  critical  ear  to  evince  more  piety 
than  talent ;  and  though  much  pleased  with  the 
appearance  and  manner  of  the  young  clergyman, 
he  decided  in  his  own  mind  that  he  had  not  suffi 
cient  force  of  intellect  to  build  up  a  new  parish. 
He  imparted  his  views  on  this  subject  to  his 
sister-in-law,  Mrs.  George  Waterford,  who  was 
somewhat  piqued  at  having  her  favorite  thus 
undervalued,  though  very  averse  to  the  idea  of 
his  being  called  away  from  the  city.  When 


HERBERT  ATHERTON*  151 

Frank  Went  to  visit  his  uncle,  he  carried  him  a 
volume  of  sermons,  one  of  which  had  been  written 
by  the  Rev.  Herbert  Atherton.  Mr.  Waterford 
smiled  at  the  determination  of  his  sister  to  make 
him  a  convert  to  her  own  opinion,  but  read  the 
sermon  with  candid  attention,  and  was  struck 
with  the  transparency  of  style,  beauty  of  illustra 
tion,  and  vigor  of  thought  which  it  displayed. 
He  remembered  then  that  the  discourse  to  which 
he  had  listened  was  adapted  to  men  who  were 
little  above  children  in  capacity,  and  was  some 
what  mortified  at  having,  under  such  circum 
stances,  passed  so  decisive  an  opinion  with  re 
gard  to  the  abilities  of  the  preacher. 

When  Frank  returned  home,  his  uncle  accom 
panied  him,  and  after  paying  a  long  visit  to  the 
bishop  of  that  diocese,  Mr.  Waterford  requested 
a  private  interview  with  Mr.  Atherton.  The 
latter  was  much  surprised  at  the  offer  of  the 
rectorship  of  the  Church  of  the  Messiah,  at  Holm- 
wood,  and  such  was  his  interest  in  the  congrega 
tion  of  the  Chapel  of  St.  Barnabas,  that  he  felt 
inclined  at  once  to  give  a  decisive  negative  to 
the  proposal.  He  remembered,  after  a  moment's 
reflection,  that  so  important  a  step  should  not  be 
taken  without  due  consideration,  and  therefore 
consented  to  postpone  his  answer  till  the  1st  of 


152  HERBEET  ATHEETON. 

March.  He  also  made  many  inquiries  with  re 
gard  to  the  state  of  the  parish,  and  particularly 
desired  to  know  whether  it  contained  many  per 
sons  upon  whom  the  rector  might  rely  for  co 
operation  and  sympathy.  Mr.  Waterford  assured 
him  that  the  members  of  the  vestry,  though  some 
of  them  were  deficient  in  education,  were  all  ex 
cellent  men,  who  were  zealous  for  the  glory  of 
God,  and  in  promoting  the  highest  welfare  of  his 
Church.  He  also  begged  Mr.  Atherton,  with 
whom  he  was  becoming  every  instant  more 
pleased,  that  he  would  pay  him  a  visit,  and  judge 
for  himself  if  the  situation  of  which  his  accept 
ance  was  so  warmly  urged  was  not  one  in  which 
he  would  not  be  useful  and  happy.  Herbert 
readily  consented  to  visit  Holmwood  at  his  ear 
liest  convenience,  and  thought  that  if  there  were 
many  persons  there  who  equalled  Mr.  Waterford 
in  acquaintance  with  Bible  truth,  and  thorough 
knowledge  of  church  affairs,  the  position  would 
indeed  be  most  desirable. 

And  yet,  thought  the  spiritually-minded  cler 
gyman,  after  the  departure  of  Mr.  "Waterford, 
the  place  in  which  a  minister  is  most  comforta 
ble,  is  that  in  which  he  is  really  least  needed. 
Where  the  church-officers  are  all  men  of  high- 
toned  piety,  the  congregation  by  whom  they  are 


ATHERTON,  153 

elected,  must  be  of  the  same  stamp^  and  all 
ministrations  are  blessed  to  those  prayerfully 
anxious  for  improvement.  Ought  I  to  select  a 
field  of  such  comparatively  easy  labor  ?  It  is  a 
most  encouraging  work  to  "  strengthen  those  who 
stand, "  but  I  feel  as  if  it  were  my  appointed 
mission  to  comfort  and  help  the  weak-hearted, 
and  to  raise  up  those  who  are  fallen. 

These  meditations  were  interrupted  by  the  re 
ceipt  of  a  note  from  Harry  Melville,  who  en 
treated  his  friend  to  come  immediately  to  a 
hotel,  which  he  specified,  and  see  a  young  man 
who  was  very  ill.  "  He  asked,  a  few  minutes 
since,  for  a  clergyman,"  wrote  Harry,  "  and  has 
now  his  reason,  but  it  may  leave  him  any  mo 
ment  ;  and  if  so,  the  physician  says  there  is  no 
hope.  Come  at  once." 

Herbert  did  not  delay  an  instant,  but  hurried 
to  the  hotel  and  inquired  for  Mr.  Barlow's  rooms. 
As  he  approached  the  door  of  the  apartment  to 
which  he  was  directed,  a  piercing  shriek  met  his 
ear,  followed  by  a  succession  of  low  wails  of 
agony.  On  entering  the  room,  he  saw  Harry 
holding  down,  by  main  force,  a  slender  young 
man,  who  in  a  perfect  state  of  phrensy  was  try 
ing  to  spring  from  his  bed. 

"  How  long  has  he  been  thus  ?"  asked  Her- 


154.  HERBERT    ATHERTOtf. 

bert,  in  a  low  tone,  as  he  softly  approached  the 
couch. 

Harry  started  at  the  sound  of  Herbert's  voice^ 
and  exclaimed  in  bitter  agony,  "  You  are  too 
late !  His  mind  has  gone*  I  have  destroyed 
him." 

Before  any  reply  could  be  made  to  this  re 
morseful  assertion,  the  wretched  victim  of  self* 
indulgence  made  a  sudden  spring,  and  throwing 
Harry  aside,  as  if  he  had  been  a  child,  bounded 
with  a  fearful  scream  towards  the  half-open 
door.  Two  men,  who  had  been  attracted  to  the 
spot  by  his  cries,  now  burst  into  the  room  and 
aided  in  securing  the  unfortunate  young  man^ 
and  after  binding  him  fast,  they  placed  him 
again  upon  the  couch.  There  he  lay  for  some 
moments  in  a  state  of  perfect  exhaustion,  and 
then  commenced  a  terrible  struggle  for  freedom. 
Suddenly  this  ceased,  and  a  ray  of  reason  for  an 
instant  illumined  his  wild  eyes.  He  fixed  them 
steadily  on  Harry,  who  was  leaning  over  him  in 
breathless  anxiety,  and  said,  in  a  calm,  sepul 
chral  tone,  "Do  you  gloat  over  your  work? 
You  first  tempted  me  to  drink  :  you  have  been 
my  ruin."  Then  he  uttered  another  fright 
ful  yell,  and  rolling  his  eyes  wildly  around, 
screamed  out,  "Vipers!  snakes!  scorpions  !  They 


HERBERT    ATHERTON  155 

spring  on  me.  They  hiss  at  me.  They  sting 
me!" 

At  these  fearful  cries,  Harry's  face  became 
perfectly  colorless,  and  he  would  have  fallen  to 
the  floor,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  timely  sup 
port  of  Herbert's  arm. 

"  Stay  here  for  a  moment,"  said  the  latter  to 
the  strangers  who  had  come  in  to  their  assist 
ance.  "  My  friend  must  breathe  the  air." 

"No,  no  !"  said  Harry,  with  returning  strength; 
"  I  must  not  leave  him.  Let  me  do  all  that  I  can 
for  him  now." 

"  But,  Harry,  you  are  not  strong  enough  to  be 
of  any  use,  and  another  person  will  do  just  as 
well.  Has  he  no  friends  in  the  city  for  whom  we 
can  send  ?" 

"  I  must  stay  myself,"  said  Harry  firmly.  "It 
is  my  just  punishment.  Ralph  is  a  stranger  here, 
and  he  has  no  near  relations  in  the  world  but  his 
mother.  We  telegraphed  to  her  this  noon,  and 
she  must  arrive  very  soon." 

A  moment  after  there  was  a  gentle  tap  at  the 
door,  and  then  a  light  step  tottered  across  the 
floor,  and  the  slender  form  of  an  elderly  female, 
dressed  in  deep  mourning,  knelt  beside  that 
couch  of  suffering.  She  was  a  widow,  and  he 
was  her  only  son. 


156  HERBERT   ATfiERTOtt. 

"Can  the  world  of  torment  be  worse  than 
this!"  exclaimed  Harry,  as  he  listened  to  the 
heart-broken  sobs  of  the  wretched  mother, 
"  Speak  to  her,  Herbert,  or  she  will  die." 

He  did  not  speak  to  her,  for  her  grief  was  too 
mighty  for  human  consolation ;  but,  following  an 
involuntary  impulse,  he  threw  himself  on  his 
knees  at  her  side,  and  poured  out  so  fervent  a 
petition  for  divine  aid,  that  even  the  frantic  suf 
ferer  remained  quiet  till  its  conclusion.  Then  the 
widow  arose,  and,  putting  her  arm  round  the 
neck  of  her  son,  laid  her  face  softly  to  his,  as  if 
he  had  been  a  sick  child. 

The  gentle  touch  seemed  to  rouse  him  to  half 
consciousness,  for  he  fixed  his  dark  eyes  mourn 
fully  upon  her  sad  face,  and,  lifting  up  his  fettered 
hand,  patted  her  thin  cheek  tenderly,  and  said 
in  a  gentle  tone,  "  You  are  sorry,  mother,  I  know. 
Don't  grieve  for  me.  You  did  your  duty." 

In  another  instant  the  lucid  interval  was  past, 
and,  with  a  loud  scream  of  agony,  he  burst  the 
fetters  from  his  hands,  and  aimed  a  blow  at  Her 
bert,  who  was  standing  at  his  side.  It  did  not 
injure  him,  but  another  stroke  sent  Harry  reeling 
to  the  ground.  He  rose,  however,  unhurt,  and, 
assisted  by  the  two  strangers,  succeeded  in  again 
securing  the  arms  of  the  now  raving  maniac. 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  157 

The  soul-stricken  mother  now  became  fearfully 
calm. 

"Will  you  go  to  the  nearest  physician?"  she 
said  to  one  of  the  men  who  stood  gazing  on  the 
scene  with  deep  sympathy.  "  He  must  be  bled 
instantly.  And  you,  sir,"  she  added,  turning  to 
Harry,  "  had  better  leave  us  now.  You  are  very 
pale,  and  these  two  gentlemen  will  be  able  to 
take  care  of  the  poor  boy." 

"  Go,  Harry,"  said  Herbert.  "  You  can  be  of 
no  use  to  him  here,  but  you  can  pray  for  him 
elsewhere  ;  and  if  there  is  the  least  improvement, 
you  shall  be  sent  for  instantly.  Go,  I  beseech 
you." 

With  a  despairing  look,  Harry  at  last  consented 
to  withdraw,  and  then  Mrs.  Barlow  asked  for  the 
particulars  of  her  son's  illness.  Herbert  could 
give  her  no  information ;  but  on  the  arrival  of 
the  physician,  she  learned  that  only  the  day  be 
fore  the  poor  fellow  was  in  perfect  health. 

He  was  so  furious  now  that  it  was  almost  im 
possible  to  bleed  him ;  but  after  the  operation 
was  performed,  he  grew  more  quiet. 

"  He  is  better,"  said  the  mother  an  hour  after 
wards,  when  she  saw  that  her  son  was  perfectly 
tranquil. 

The  physician  shook  his   head,  and  felt  the 

14 


158  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

pulse  of  his  patient  with  an  expression  of  deep 
concern. 

"Is  he  going?"  whispered  Herbert. 

"  Failing  rapidly,"  was  the  brief  reply. 

"May  he  not  have  his  senses?  There  is  in 
telligence  in  his  eye,"  said  Herbert,  as  he  watched 
the  now  pallid  face  of  the  invalid  with  fearful 
interest. 

"It  is  possible,  but  not  probable,"  said  the 
physician.  "  He  cannot  last  more  than  an  hour." 

Herbert  did  not  wait  for  another  word,  but 
approached  the  bedside  very  gently,  and  fixing 
his  eyes  on  the  sufferer,  repeated  in  a  low  tone 
the  fifty-first  Psalm.  "Was  he  mistaken  in  sup 
posing  that  Ralph  moved  his  lips,  as  if  following 
him?  With  still  deeper  solemnity  he  now  re 
cited  the  history  of  the  penitent  thief,  adding, 
from  a  memory  richly  stored  with  the  promises 
of  God,  all  such  as  were  most  encouraging  and 
abundant  in  mercy.  As  he  did  so,  the  eyes  of 
the  dying  man  fixed  upon  him  with  the  most  in 
tense  and  mournful  earnestness,  and  a  tear  stole 
out  upon  his  pallid  cheek. 

"He  understands  what  you  say,  perfectly," 
exclaimed  the  agonized  mother.  "  Oh,  pray  with 
him !" 

There  was  a  fearful  stillness  in  that  chamber, 


HERBERT    ATHKBTOX.  159 

while  the  clergyman  offered  a  prayer  which  has 
ushered  many  a  soul  into  eternity  : 

"  O  most  gracious  Father,  we  fly  unto  thee  for 
mercy  in  behalf  of  this  thy  servant,  here  lying 
under  the  sudden  visitation  of  thine  hand.  If  it 
be  thy  will,  preserve  his  life,  that  there  may  be 
place  for  repentance  ;  but  if  thou  hast  otherwise 
appointed,  let  thy  mercy  supply  to  him  the  want 
of  the  usual  opportunity  for  the  trimming  of  his 
lamp.  Stir  up  in  him  such  sorrow  for  sin,  and 
such  fervent  love  to  thee,  as  may  in  a  short  time 
do  the  work  of  many  days :  that  among  the 
praises  which  thy  saints  and  holy  angels  shall 
sing  to  the  honor  of  thy  mercy  through  eternal 
ages,  it  may  be  to  thy  unspeakable  glory  that 
thou  hast  redeemed  the  soul  of  this  thy  servant 
from  eternal  death,  and  made  him  partaker  of 
the  everlasting  life,  which  is  through  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord." 

Before  the  prayer  was  ended,  a  spirit  had 
passed  into  the  hands  of  its  Creator. 

"  Leave  me,"  said  the  childless  widow ;  "  I 
must  be  alone  with  God." 

An  hour  afterwards,  Herbert  came,  softly  to 
the  door  and  asked  admittance.  Mrs.  Barlow 
opened  it,  calmly  ;  but  he  started  at  the  change 
which  that  brief  space  had  wrought  upon  her 


160  HERBERT    ATHERTON, 

whole  appearance,  and  could  with  difficulty  com 
mand  himself  enough  to  explain  the  reason  of 
his  intrusion.  At  length  he  said,  in  a  broken 
voice, 

"  Would  you  like  some  female  friend  with  you 
to-night?  An  excellent  lady,  Mrs.  "Waterford, 
will  come  and  stay  with  you  here  ;  or  if  you  pre 
fer  it,  Ralph  can  be  removed  to  her  dwelling." 

"  ]STo,"  she  replied,  with  an  unfaltering  voice  ; 
"  let  him  remain  here  till  he  is  carried  to  his  last 
resting-place.  I  should  like  the  company  of  Mrs. 
Waterford  for  a  little  while  ;  but  if  possible,  will 
you  make  arrangements  for  carrying  my  poor 
boy  home  to-night  ?" 

Herbert  withdrew  instantly,  and  drove  rapidly 
to  Mrs.  Waterford's  dwelling,  accompanied  by 
Harry  Melville,  whose  very  reason  seemed  totter 
ing  with  mental  agony.  "  He  came  here  but  six 
months  since,"  he  said,  "  a  bright,  happy  boy. 
I  tempted  him  to  drink  wine  and  brandy, 
laughed  at  his  scruples,  introduced  him  to  a 
gambling-house,  persuaded  him  that  Christians 
were  hypocrites,  and  did  all  in  my  power  to 
destroy  his  soul.  How  can  I  hope  to  be  for 
given  ?" 

"  But  God,  in  his  mercy,  may  have  saved  you 
from  this  awful  guilt,"  said  his  companion, 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  161 

soothingly.  "  We  know  not  in  how  short  a  time 
a  soul  may  find  mercy,  and  from  the  expression 
of  Ralph's  dying  countenance,  I  am  full  of  hope 
that  he  fled  in  his  extremity  to  the  only  refuge 
of  sinners." 

"  You  really  think  this  possible !"  exclaimed 
Harry,  as  eagerly  as  a  drowning  man  would 
snatch  at  the  means  of  rescue.  "But  no!  an 
offended  God  cannot  thus  easily  be  pacified,"  he 
added,  mournfully. 

"  There  is  no  limit  to  his  mercy,  when  sought 
in  the  name,  and  for  the  sake,  of  our  blessed 
Saviour,"  said  Herbert,  solemnly.  "  I  know  that 
there  are  those  who  think  that  evil  may  ensue 
from  making  a  death-bed  repentance  seem  a 
probability ;  but  you,  Harry,  are  in  no  danger 
of  being  encouraged  to  lead  a  life  of  sin  by  such 
a  hope.  You  have  learned  by  bitter  experience 
that  to  defer  repentance  is  to  heap  up  sorrow  for 
yourself,  and  woe  for  others." 

"  I  have,  indeed !"  replied  Harry  sadly.  "  I 
would  begin  life  a  pauper,  and  spend  it  all  in 
suffering,  to  efface  the  irreparable  injury  that  I 
have  done.  No,  no,  repentance  cannot  undo  the 
past.  Poor  Ralph !  He  is  not  my  only  victim. 
There  is  another :  she  sleeps  now  with  her 
baby  upon  her  breast ;  but  she  will  rise  up  in 


162  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

the  judgment-day  to  witness  against  her  de 
stroyer." 

"  It  is  God  that  justifieth  :  who  is  he  that  con- 
demneth  ?"  said  Herbert,  gently. 

Mrs.  Waterford  returned  immediately  with  Mr. 
Atherton  to  the  hotel ;  but  he  would  not  allow 
Harry  to  accompany  them.  "  You  can  do  Mrs. 
Barlow  no  good,"  he  said,  "  and  the  lesson  you 
have  received  is  already  sufficiently  severe.  Go 
home,  my  poor  friend,  and  do  not  allow  yourself 
to  doubt  that  the  blood  of  Christ  can  wash  out 
sins  even  as  dark  as  that  which  is  filling  your 
soul  with  agony.  I  will  come  to  you  in  the 
morning.  To-night,  I  shall  accompany  Mrs.  Bar 
low  upon  her  mournful  journey." 

"  If  she  knows  what  I  have  done,"  said  Harry, 
gasping  for  breath,  "  she  can  never  forgive  me. 
Tell  her,  though,  how  bitterly  I  repent  of  my 
evil  influence,  and  find  out  if  there  is  any  way 
in  which  I  can  serve  her.  Do  come  to  me  as 
soon  as  you  return." 

""What  a  noble  heart  Satan  obtained  for  a 
prey,  when  Harry  fell  a  victim  to  his  arts !" 
said  Herbert,  sadly,  as  his  poor  friend  turned 
away,  bowed  down  by  remorse.  "  I  hope  that 
he  has  broken  the  fetters  of  sin  ;  but  he  will  wear 
their  mark  till  his  dying  day.  But  oh !  if  he 


HERBERT   ATIIERTON.  163 

had  been  reared  according  to  the  promises  made 
at  his  baptism,  how  different  might  have  been 
his  life !  But  he  was  dedicated  to  God,  and  then 
given  to  the  world." 

"  How  I  tremble,"  said  Mrs.  Waterford,  "  when 
I  think  of  the  temptations  to  which  Frank  will 
be  exposed  !" 

"  I  do  not  wonder  that  you  feel  the  deepest 
anxiety  for  him,"  said  Herbert ;  "  but  you  must 
not  distrust  the  promises  of  God.  I  know  that 
you  will  give  your  son  not  only  religious  knowl 
edge,  but  earnest  prayers  and  a  consistent  exam 
ple,  and  you  have  striven  from  his  infancy  to 
keep  him  unspotted  from  the  world." 

"But  perhaps  Mrs.  Barlow  did  the  same  by 
her  poor  boy !"  said  Mrs.  Waterford,  with  a  deep 
sigh.  "When  I  see  such  instances  of  fruitless 
prayer  and  faith,  my  heart  dies  within  me." 

"And  how  do  you  know  that  in  this  case 
prayer  and  faith  were  vain  ?  Who  can  tell  what 
passed  in  the  heart  of  that  young  man  in  his 
dying  hour  ?  I  could  much  more  easily  believe 
that  he  then  made  his  peace  with  his  Maker,  than 
that  one  jot  or  tittle  of  the  promises  of  God  should 
fail." 

On  again  entering  the  chamber  of  death,  Mr. 
Atherton  found  the  mother  still  more  composed. 


164:  HEEBEBT  ATHEBfOK. 

"  Come  here,"  she  said,  "  and  look  at  his  face. 
Do  you  see  its  tranquil  peace  ?  His  earthly  frame 
could  not  wear  so  serene  an  appearance  if  his 
spirit  were  now  in  misery.  I  cannot  but  hope 
that  in  his  dying  hour  my  prayers  were  heard." 

"  And  God  has  given  you  that  hope  to  rest 
upon,  my  dear  madam,"  said  Herbert,  with  affec 
tionate  sympathy.  "  I  firmly  believe  that  the 
last  day  will  reveal  many  instances  of  such  un 
speakable  mercy.  Here  is  Mrs.Waterford.  Like 
yourself,  she  has  known  much  sorrow.  We  can 
leave  here  in  two  hours,  and  I  beg  that  you  will 
allow  me  to  accompany  you." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  the  afflicted  mother, 
gratefully. 

"  I  am  only  doing  my  Master's  work,"  replied 
Herbert,  meekly. 

At  twelve  o'clock  that  night  the  earthly  re 
mains  of  Ralph  Barlow  reached  that  home  which 
he  had  left  a  few  months  before  in  the  pride  of 
youth  and  health. 

Herbert  could  not  restrain  his  tears  as  he  saw 
the  deep  grief  of  the  servants  at  the  loss  of  their 
beloved  young  master,  and  the  melancholy  lone 
liness  of  their  childless  mistress.  But  the  faith 
and  hope  of  a  Christian  subdued  the  anguish  of 
the  mother's  heart ;  and  as  she  stood  by  the  corpse 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  165 

of  her  only  son,  surrounded  by  weeping  friends 
and  domestics,  she  exclaimed,  with  pious  resig 
nation, 

" '  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken 
away ;  blessed  be  the  Name  of  the  Lord.' " 


166  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AN    INVALID,    AND    A    VOYAGE. 

"  His  heart  is  sick  with  thinking 

Of  the  misery  of  his  kind ; 
His  mind  is  almost  sinking — 
That  once  so  buoyant  mind." 

THE  sympathy  which  is  most  precious  to  the 
recipient  is  always  most  costly  to  its  giver.  For 
six  months  Herbert  Atherton  had  been  drawing 
perpetually  upon  his  own  warm  heart  for  the 
consolation  of  others ;  and  though  the  fountain 
was  inexhaustible,  his  physical  constitution  was 
too  delicate  to  endure  such  continued  excitement. 
His  mind  dwelt  day  and  night  with  feverish  ac 
tivity  upon  the  woes  of  his  fellow-men,  and  was 
constantly  busy  in  devising  schemes  for  their 
relief;  but  he  was  at  times  seized  with  an  irre 
sistible  depression,  which  was  the  consequence 
of  nervous  debility. 

Mrs.  "Waterford  noticed,  with  truly  maternal 
anxiety,  that  her  young  friend  was  becoming 
paler  and  thinner,  and  tried  in  vain  to  tempt  his 
fast  failing  appetite. 


HERBERT    ATIIEIITON.  167 

At  length  Herbert  was  obliged  to  own  that  he 
was  really  ill,  and,  to  please  Mrs.  Waterford,  he 
consented  to  consult  her  family  physician. 

Dr.  Warner  saw  at  a  glance  what  was  the 
state  of  the  case,  and  had  too  often  met  the  young 
clergyman  on  his  errands  of  mercy  to  be  surprised 
at  his  present  condition. 

"  Your  preaching  may  be  very  good,  my  dear 
sir,  but  I  call  this  a  decided  case  of  mat-practice," 
he  said  kindly,  as  he  felt  the  quick,  thread-like 
pulse  of  his  patient. 

u  Why,  what  do  you  think  ails  me,  doctor  ?" 
asked  Herbert  languidly,  and  with  much  less 
interest  than  he  would  have  evinced  with  regard 
to  a  stranger. 

"What  do  I  think  ails  you?"  repeated  the 
physician.  "  Why,  you  have  been  wearing  your 
heart-strings  out.  Don't  you  believe  that  the 
sixth  commandment  was  meant  to  forbid  one's 
killing  himself.  If  you  do,  what  have  you  been 
about  all  this  while  but  committing  suicide  ?" 

"  But  what  else  could  I  do  ?"  said  Herbert 
apologetically.  "  How  could  I  remain  at  home 
when  the  sick  and  the  suffering  needed  my  ad 
vice?" 

"  Tut !  tut !  you  are  always  hunting  up  such 
people.  Now  tell  me  frankly  whether  you  want 


168  HERBERT  ATHEKTON. 

to  live  or  not  ?"  said  the  blunt  but  kind-hearted 
doctor. 

"  I  wish  to  live  as  long  as  my  Master  has  work 
for  me  to  accomplish  here,  and  no  longer,"  said 
Herbert  soberly. 

"  Well,  then,  will  you  do  what  I  tell  you  ?" 
asked  Dr.  Warner. 

"  Certainly  I  will,  if  you  think  that  I  am  in  any 
danger,"  replied  Herbert. 

"  In  danger  1  why,  you'll  be  off  into  a  gallop 
ing  consumption  in  six  weeks,  at  this  rate.  In 
the  first  place,  yon  must  give  up  the  Chapel  of 
St.  Barnabas,  which  is  no  place  for  a  man  of  such 
fine  sensibilities  and  intense  sympathies  as  yon 
possess." 

"  And  who  will  take  care  of  my  poor  people  ?" 
asked  Herbert  mournfully. 

"  Somebody  that's  much  better  fitted  for  the 
place  than  you  are,  I'll  be  bound.  You  think 
about  those  scapegraces,  and  try  to  realize  their 
condition,  till  you  feel  all  the  while  as  if  you  had 
been  stealing  and  murdering,  and  were  on  the 
brink  of  destruction.  Then  you  stand  up  there 
and  preach  yourself  into  a  perfect  glow,  and 
come  out  in  the  cold  air  just  in  a  state  to  plant 
the  seeds  of  consumption.  Some  morning  you 
will  be  sending  to  tell  me  that  you  have  had  a 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  169 

hemorrhage  from  the  lungs,  and  then  it  will  be 
all  over  with  you." 

"  But  even  were  I  in  as  bad  a  way  as  you 
make  out,  Doctor,  if  I  were  convinced  that  I  am 
more  useful  in  my  present  position  than  any  one 
else  could  be,  I  am  not  sure  that  I  should  give  it 
up,"  said  Herbert.  "  The  Apostle,  you  know, 
counted  not  life  itself  dear,  so  that  he  might  fin 
ish  his  course  with  joy,  and  I  would  readily  yield 
up  mine,  if  the  souls  of  others  demanded  the 
sacrifice." 

"  Yery  bad  doctrine  indeed,"  said  the  physician 
impatiently.  "  Your  first  duty  is  to  keep  the 
commandments  of  God  ;  and  they  tell  you  to 
murder  no  man,  yourself  not  excepted.  But  I 
am  not  sure  that  giving  up  your  charge  alone 
will  save  you.  ISTow  you  have  put  yourself  in 
this  fix,  you  must  take  some  pains  to  get  out 
of  it.  Is  there  no  little  journey  that  you  would 
like  to  take?  A  short  voyage  would  be  the. 
thing." 

Herbert  thought  for  a  few  moments,  and  then 
his  face  beamed  with  pleasure,  as  he  asked  with 
some  hesitation, 

"  What  do  you  think  of  a  trip  to  Savannah  ?" 

"  Just  the  thing !"  responded  Dr.  "Warner,  rub 
bing  his  hands,  "  for  I  see  that  there  is  more  rea 
ls 


170  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

son  why  such  an  excursion  would  divert  your 
thoughts.  Pack  up,  and  be  off  instantly." 

"But  I  have  an  important  matter  to  decide 
before  I  can  go,"  interposed  Herbert. 

"  Psha !  Your  decision  now  wouldn't  be  worth 
a  straw.  Make  the  contracting  party  wait  till 
you  return,  which  you  will  do  in  a  month  or  two, 
I  prophesy,  with  a  healthier  color,  and  twenty 
pounds  more  of  flesh." 

When  Mrs.  Waterford  heard  what  was  the 
advice  of  Dr.  Warner,  she  became  most  anxious 
for  the  departure  of  her  friend,  and  even  offered 
to  accompany  him  upon  his  voyage,  if  he  felt  too 
ill  to  undertake  it  alone. 

Herbert  would  not  consent  to  her  making  such 
a  sacrifice,  but  put  her  mind  at  ease  by  promis 
ing  to  try  and  arrange  his  affairs  so  that  he  might 
leave  during  the  ensuing  week.  He  then  wrote 
a  letter  to  Mr.  James  Waterford,  regretting  that 
the  state  of  his  health  would  at  present  prevent 
him  from  giving  a  decisive  answer  to  the  pro 
posal  of  the  committee  of  the  church  at  Holm- 
wood,  and  leaving  it  to  their  option  whether  the 
rectorship  should  continue  at  his  refusal. 

To  this  letter  he  received  a  most  courteous  re 
ply,  assuring  him  that  no  steps  would  be  taken 
during  his  absence  to  procure  a  substitute,  and 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  171 

suggesting  that  the  state  of  his  health  might  be 
an  additional  inducement  to  leave  the  city,  and 
take  charge  of  a  country  parish. 

"  And  what  will  you  do  with  Frank  ?"  he  asked 
anxiously  of  Mrs.  Waterford.  "  If  I  go  to  Holm- 
wood  on  my  return,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  give 
him  up,  so  perhaps  you  had  better  procure  some 
person  capable  of  carrying  on  his  instruction  till 
he  is  ready  to  enter  college." 

"  I  have  another  plan  for  Frank,"  said  Mrs. 
Waterford  archly.  "  In  your  absence,  I  shall  teach 
him  myself,  and  when  you  return  I  intend  to 
place  him  under  your  charge  at  the  Holmwood 
rectory.  Perhaps  you  can  find  some  lady  at  the 
South  who  will  come  back  with  you  to  take  a 
motherly  care  of  my  dear  boy  in  your  new  home." 

It  was  the  first  time  that  Mrs.  Waterford  had 
given  any  intimation  that  she  suspected  the  rea 
son  why  Mr.  Atherton  preferred  visiting  Savannah 
to  any  other  place. 

He  was  evidently  embarrassed  by  her  last  re 
mark,  but  he  mastered  his  confusion,  and,  sitting 
down  by  her,  said  affectionately, 

"  You  should  have  known  before,  my  kind 
friend,  all  that  concerned  my  dearest  earthly  in 
terests,  could  you  have  done  so  without  my  be 
traying  the  confidence  of  another.  Agnes  Came- 


172  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

ron  is  now  all  that  mj  heart  could  wish,  and  a 
month  since  was  free  to  bestow  her  hand  on  any 
one  fortunate  enough  to  win  her  affection.  I 
have  made  no  effort  since  to  secure  her  love,  be 
cause  I  was  not  sufficiently  independent  to  do  so 
with  honor.  If  I  am  well  enough  to  take  charge 
of  the  Holmwood  parish,  there  will  be  no  obstacle 
to  my  asking  if  she  will  consent  to  preside  over 
its  rectory." 

Mrs.  Waterford's  congratulations  were  most 
sincere,  though  marriage  was  a  subject  of  which 
she  could  never  speak  without  tears  ;  and  as  she 
looked  at  the  noble  face  of  the  young  clergyman, 
it  seemed  to  her  impossible  that  he  could  ever 
sue  in  vain  for  the  favor  of  any  woman  of  taste 
and  discernment. 

When  Herbert  called  upon  the  Bishop  of  the 
diocese  to  inform  him  that  he  was  constrained  by 
illness  to  resign  the  charge  of  the  Chapel  of  St. 
Barnabas,  he  found  that  that  reverend  father  in 
God  was  already  aware  of  the  fact. 

"  I  have  feared  for  some  time,"  said  the  latter, 
*'  that  your  strength  would  not  keep  pace  with 
your  energy  and  zeal,  and  it  was  upon  this  ac 
count  that  I  was  in  favor  of  your  removal  to 
Holmwood.  I  love  your  ardor,  my  dear  young 
brother ;  but  you  may  accomplish  much  more  by 


HERBERT    ATHERTOX.  173 

a  long  life  of  judicious  exertion  than  by  a  short 
one  of  such  incessant  labor." 

"I  think,  sir,  that  my  friends  are  mistaken 
with  regard  to  my  indisposition,"  said  Herbert, 
respectfully.  "  They  substitute  causes  for  effects. 
My  constitution  was  always  delicate,  and  I  have 
never  looked  forward  to  length  of  days,  and  on 
this  very  account  have  felt  greater  anxiety  to  do 
something  more  for  the  glory  of  God.  You  may 
remember  that  I  left  my  last  parish  on  account 
of  my  health,  and  was  very  ill  after  my  arrival 
here,  so  that  it  does  not  seem  to  me  reasonable 
to  attribute  my  present  weakness  to  any  impru 
dence  on  my  own  part." 

"  But  I  have  heard,"  said  the  Bishop,  mildly, 
"that  your  first  illness  was  in  consequence  of 
over-exertion  ;  and  I  cannot  think  that  you  are 
right  in  risking  a  life  which  is  so  valuable  to  the 
Church." 

"  But,"  said  Herbert,  "  I  have  always  given 
myself  sufficient  time  for  exercise  and  relaxation, 
and  such  a  variety  in  my  employments  as  might 
prevent  their  being  laborious.  I  have  written 
but  one  sermon  weekly  since  I  have  been  in  this 
city,  and,  excepting  the  instruction  of  Frank 
Waterford,  my  other  duties  have  beeu  almost  all 
of  a  pastoral  nature." 


HERBERT  ATHERTON. 

"But  those  are  the  very  ones  which  have 
sapped  your  strength.  Far  be  it  from  me  to 
check  your  zeal,  my  dear  young  friend,  but  I 
cannot  endure  the  thought  of  so  valuable  a  life 
being  so  lightly  sacrificed." 

"  And  what  can  I  do  ?"  asked  Herbert  earnest 
ly.  "  My  ordination  vows  are  upon  me,  to  use 
both  public  and  private  monitions  and  exhorta 
tions,  as  well  to  the  sick  as  to  the  whole,  within 
my  cure,  as  need  shall  require  and  occasion  be 
given.  How  then  can  I  neglect  any  opportunity 
of  benefiting  the  souls  for  whom  I  must  give  an 
account,  or  refrain  from  carrying  from  house  to 
house  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  ?  Oh  sir,  it  is 
not  over-exertion  that  is  preying  upon  my 
strength,  but  the  sight  of  misery  which  I  cannot 
relieve,  of  sin  which  will  not  seek  for  forgiveness. 
My  own  heart  is  at  peace  with  my  Maker  ;  but  I 
have  such  a  burning  desire  to  reconcile  others  to 
him,  that  sometimes  my  days  and  nights  are 
one  long  intercessory  prayer;  and  nothing  on 
earth  seems  of  any  importance  but  the  one  ques 
tion,  how  I  may  win  souls  to  Christ." 

Tears  filled  the  eyes  of  the  venerable  Bishop  at 
this  burst  of  religious  fervor,  and  for  a  moment 
his  feelings  could  find  no  utterance. 

"Yon  have  the  true  spirit  of  a  Christian  minis- 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  1Y5 

ter,  my  son,"  he  said  at  last.  "  Such,  too,  are  my 
own  feelings,  and  those  of  many  of  the  ambassa 
dors  of  God,  whose  trials  are  little  comprehended 
by  the  world.  It  is  this  fearful  sense  of  respon 
sibility  that  saps  the  strength  and  shortens  the 
lives  of  so  many  of  our  brethren;  but  we  cannot 
feel  otherwise,  and  be  fitted  for  our  sacred  office. 
May  God  restore  you  to  health,  and  adorn  your 
heavenly  crown  with  many  of  those  jewels  which 
are  so  precious  in  his  sight." 

The  last  visit  which  Herbert  paid  before  his 
departure,  was  to  Harry  Melville  at  his  office. 
He  found  him  occupied  in  renewing  his  legal 
studies;  for,  while  nominally  practising  his  pro 
fession,  the  idle  young  man  had  actually  forgotten 
the  first  principles  of  law. 

"  I  am  surprised  to  find  how  much  I  have  for 
gotten,  and  how  sadly  my  mind  has  been  weak 
ened  by  the  excesses  in  which  I  have  indulged," 
he  remarked  sorrowfully.  "When  shall  I  finish 
the  discovery  of  the  evils  which  I  have  brought 
upon  myself  by  my  own  wickedness  ?  But  the 
recompense  is  just ;  I  only  reap  what  I  have  sown." 

"  But,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Herbert  in  a 
cheerful  tone,  "  you  will  also  reap  the  better  seed 
that  you  are  now  sowing  in  tears.  I  hope  to  see 
you  at  no  distant  day  rejoicing  over  a  plentiful 


176  HEEBERT   ATHEKTON. 

harvest  of  good.  On  my  return,  I  am  sure  that 
I  shall  find  you  a  happier  man.  Write  to  me 
very  often,  and  tell  me  all  that  you  think  and 
feel." 

"  May  I.  ask  you  one  question  ?"  said  Harry, 
hesitatingly.  "  Do  not  answer  it  if  you  dislike 
to  do  so.  Are  you  not  going  to  pay  your  ad 
dresses  to  Miss  Cameron  ?" 

Herbert  looked  at  his  friend  with  affectionate 
sympathy  as  he  answered  frankly,  "  If  my  health 
is  restored,  so  that  I  have  a  prospect  of  life  and 
usefulness,  I  shall  tell  her  the  story  of  my  hith 
erto  hopeless  affection." 

At  this  information,  there  was  an  evident 
struggle  in  the  mind  of  his  companion  ;  but  his 
better  feelings  conquered,  and,  extending  his 
hand  to  Herbert,  he  said  warmly, 

"  You  are  worthy  of  her,  and  I  wish  you  suc 
cess  with  all  my  heart.  Tell  her  that  if  I  had 
known  as  much  of  my  own  sinfulness  when  I  last 
wrote  to  her,  as  I  now  do,  I  should  have  never 
insulted  her  by  a  proposal  that  she  should  link 
her  life  to  one  so  sullied  with  crime.  Yet  en 
deavor  to  persuade  her,  my  dear  friend,  that  I 
am  now  trying  in  earnest  to  reform,  and  think  of 
me  yourself  as  kindly  as  you  can." 

Herbert  acceded  to  these  requests  with  assu- 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  177 

ranees  of  the  warmest  interest  and  affection  ;  for 
he  felt  in  parting  with  Harry — he  felt  that  in 
spite  of  all  his  errors,  his  repentant  friend  was 
becoming  very  dear  to  him. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  Mrs.  Waterford,"  he  said 
on  his  return  home,  "  it  only  remains  for  me  to 
thank  you  for  your  never-failing  kindness,  and 
to  ask  that  you  would  inform  Dr.  Welford  of  the 
cause  of  my  absence,  and  say  how  much  I  re 
gretted  that  he  happened  to  be  away,  so  that  I 
could  not  bid  him  farewell.  It  is  true  that  Dr. 
Warner  flatters  me  that  I  may  return  in  two 
months ;  but  I  never  presume  upon  probabilities. 
You  can  never  estimate  the  value  to  me  of  your 
affectionate  interest  and  sympathy.  I  place  these 
gifts  before  more  substantial  benefits,  because 
the  heart  is  always  more  truly  grateful  for  affec 
tion  than  actual  beneficence.  You  have  been 
to  me  a  second  mother,  and  as  such  I  shall 
reverence  and  love  you  as  long  as  life  lasts." 

"  And  that  will  be  for  many  years,  I  trust, 
my  dear  Herbert,"  she  replied,  cheerfully.  "  I 
look  forward  with  confidence  to  your  return,  and 
should  any  friend  accompany  you,  remember  that 
this  is  your  home." 

Herbert  understood  the  invitation,  and  smiled, 
though  somewhat  sadly. 


178  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

"  The  future  is  so  uncertain,"  he  said,  "  that  I 
hardly  dare  let  my  mind  rest  upon  such  a  possi* 
bility.  If  I  can  only  see  Agnes  once  more,  and 
hear  from  her  own  lips,  one  assurance  of  her 
faith  in  a  brighter  world,  I  can  die  content ;  and 
even  now,  am  prepared  to  take  my  leave  of  ex 
istence  without  a  pang," 

"  I  ought  not  to  wish  that  you  should  live,  Her 
bert,"  said  his  friend,  as  she  brushed  away  a  tear, 
"  for  you  are  ready  for  heaven,  and  I  know  that 
it  is  a  happier  home  than  this  sorrowful  earth  ; 
but  oh,  the  heart  so  clings  to  its  idols  !  I  cannot 
let  you  go." 

"You  are  not  now  called  upon  to  give  me 
up  only  for  a  season,"  he  said  gently,  "and 
therefore  you  have  not  the  requisite  strength, 
Your  face  grows  brighter  at  that  thought,  and 
you  feel  that  you  can  endure  a  long  absence  if  it 
is  not  final.  Why  then  dread  that  separation 
which  can  only  last  during  the 'brief  continuance 
of  our  mortal  lives  ?" 

"  I  know  that  it  is  wrong  and  unchristian  to 
feel  thus,"  she  replied ;  "  but  the  more  friends 
I  lose,  the  more  fondly  I  cling  to  those  that  re 
main." 

"  Ah,  here  come  my  little  pets !"  exclaimed 
Herbert,  as  the  children  entered,  accompanied 


IIKKBERT    ATHERTON.  179 

by  Frank,  who  was  inconsolable  at  the  idea  of 
losing  Mr.  Atherton. 

Mrs.  Waterford  tried  to  welcome  them  with  a 
smile,  for  she  did  not  wish  their  young  hearts  to 
be  saddened  ;  but  it  was  some  minutes  before  she 
could  speak  cheerfully. 

"  I  shall  expect  weekly  letters  from  you,  Frank, 
and  you  must  tell  me  every  thing  that  you  see  or 
hear  which  interests  you.  If  your  mother  has 
no  objections,  you  can  go  on  board  the  steamer 
with  me  this  noon,  and  then  you  can  tell  her  all 
about  my  state-room,  and  who  are  my  fellow- 
passengers." 

At  this  proposal,  Frank's  face  brightened, 
and  Mrs.  "Waterford  readily  acceded  to  it,  for  she 
knew  that  Herbert  would  take  the  opportuni 
ty  to  give  her  son  such  advice  as  he  most 
needed. 

But  with  all  the  efforts  that  were  made  to  be 
cheerful,  the  parting  was  still  a  sad  one,  and 
when  Herbert  bade  Mrs.  Waterford  "  Good-bye," 
with  an  earnest  u  God  bless  you,"  she  burst  into 
tears  and  exclaimed, 

"  Come  back  to  me,  my  son — I  cannot  part 
with  you  forever." 

He  had  only  time  to  say,  soothingly,  "  E"o,  my 
dearest  madam,  we  shall  not,  I  trust,  at  all  events 


180  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

part  forever.  In  this  world  or  a  brighter,  I  feel 
that  we  shall  meet  again,"  and  then  he  was 
borne  rapidly  away  from  one  of  the  kindest  and 
best  of  friends, 


SERBERT  ATHERTON.  181 


CHAPTER  xn. 

CONVALESCENCE. 

"Slacken  not  sail  yet, 
At  inlet  or  island ; 
Straight  for  the  beacon  steer, 
Straight  for  the  highland." 

"  MOTHER,  here's  a  letter  from  Mr.  Atherton," 
said  Frank,  as  he  bounded  into  Mrs.  Waterford's 
room,  his  face  glowing  with  pleasure* 

"  Indeed  1"  she  exclaimed,  looking  equally  de 
lighted,  as  she  broke  the  seal  and  read  the  fol 
lowing  epistle : 

"SAVAIWAH,  March  1st 

"  I  have  been  sitting  at  my  desk  for  an  hour,  my  dear 
friend,  trying  to  find  words  in  which  to  express  my  present 
feelings.  The  attempt  is  vain,  and  I  can  only  say  that  I 
am  happier  than  I  ever  expected  to  be  till  I  reached  the 
world  of  everlasting  bliss. 

"  How  can  I  describe  my  Agnes  ?  I  thought  her  lovely 
before,  but  Christian  grace  now  gives  to  her  every  act  an 
added  charm.  The  enthusiastic  warmth  of  her  nature  en 
tirely  pervades  her  religious  character ;  and  where  others 
would  be  actuated  by  a  sense  of  duty,  she  but  follows  a 
spontaneous  impulse  of  love.  I  am  constantly  fearful  lest  I 
16 


182  HERBERT    ATHERTON, 

should  betray  such  admiration  as  to  mar  the  sweet  uncon 
sciousness  which  is  her  crowning  grace.  While  imparting 
to  her  every  other  thought  and  feeling,  it  is  difficult  to 
withhold  from  her  knowledge  the  fact  that  I  consider  her  as 
the  most  perfect  of  created  beings  ;  and  I  am  constantly  in 
danger  of  injuring  the  dear  object  of  my  love  by  ill-judged 
expressions  of  devotion. 

"You  wonder,  perhaps,  at  my  warmth,  and  are  sur 
prised  at  my  being  so  ardent  a  lover ;  but  it  w^as  the  con 
sciousness  of  my  own  tendency  to  idolatrous  aifection  which 
made  me  think  that  I  should  never  be  permitted  on  earth 
to  enjoy  such  blissful  interchange  of  heart.  I  tremble  now 
at  my  own  happiness,  and  endeavor  to  look  away  from  it, 
lest  my  mind  should  become  absorbed  in  that  which  must 
pass  away.  And  yet,  the  purest  element  of  our  love  is  that 
which  cannot  perish, — an  intense  sympathy  in  our  Christian 
hopes  and  aspirations,  and  a  joyful  anticipation  of  that 
blessed  time  when  our  union  shall  be  perfected  in  the  pres 
ence  of  our  Eedeemer  and  Lord. 

"  You  may  be  surprised  that  we  have  so  rapidly  attained 
such  entire  oneness  in  heart  and  soul ;  but  I  found  that  on 
Agnes'  part,  as  well  as  my  own,  aifection  had  been  the 
growth  of  years.  On  my  first  arrival,  her  manner  was  so 
cordial  that  it  gave  me  reason  to  hope  that  her  favor  might 
in  time  be  won ;  and  as  soon  as  I  avowed  my  own  feelings, 
she  owned  that  before  we  parted,  her  regard  for  me  had 
exceeded  that  which  she  had  ever  felt  for  any  human  being. 
I  am  obliged  constantly  to  suppress  the  vanity  engendered 
by  finding  myself  so  highly  esteemed  ;  and  I  am  trying  to 
convince  Agnes  that  her  imagination  has  invested  me  with 
qualities  that  I  do  not  possess,  lest  she  should  be  bitterly 
disappointed  when  the  constant  intercourse  of  daily  life 
reveals  the  faults  to  which,  in  our  present  circumstances,  I 
feel  no  temptation. 

"Excuse  me  for  writing  so  egotistically,  but  you  made  me 
promise,  rny  dear  friend,  to  consider  you  as  a  mother,  and 


HERBERT    ATHERTOX.  183 

to  her  who  bore  that  name  my  heart  was  always  revealed. 
It  is  needless  for  me  to  say  that  my  health  is  improving,  for 
how  could  the  body  fail  to  participate  in  the  well-being  of 
its  spiritual  companion.  The  voyage  was  in  itself  beneficial, 
and  daily  rides  on  horseback,  in  the  sweetest  of  all  society, 
have  had  a  most  invigorating  effect  on  my  health  and  spir 
its.  I  am  really  so  much  better,  that  it  seems  hardly  neces 
sary  that  I  should  "remain  here  as  long  as  Dr.  Warner 
recommended ;  but  other  circumstances  have  induced  me  to 
delay  my  return  until  May. 

"  After  much  serious  thought  and  frequent  consultations 
with  Agnes,  I  have  determined  to  accept  the  Kectorship  of 
Christ  Church,  Holmwood,  and  shall  write  to  Mr.  Water- 
ford  to-morrow,  to  that  effect.  Were  it  possible^  I  should 
prefer  to  retain  the  chapel  of  St.  Barnabas ;  but  the  hand 
of  Providence  seems  to  indicate  that  I  should  take  charge 
of  a  parish  less  gratifying  to  my  own  personal  feelings.  But 
there  is  one  reason  why  the  retirement  of  the  country  is  to 
us  at  present  peculiarly  desirable.  Agnes  was,  you  know, 
for  several  years  excessively  gay  and  devoted  to  the  pomps 
and  follies  of  fashionable  life.  Although  she  has  now 
learned  to  look  upon  these  things  in  their  true  aspect,  she 
dreads  to  encounter  the  temptations  which  were  once  so 
formidable.  I  cannot  but  believe  that  she  underrates  her 
own  strength,  but  still  I  should  be  very  unwilling  to  place 
her  in  so  trying  a  position  as  that  of  a  clergyman's  wife  in 
a  large  city.  It  would  need  much  moral  courage  in  the 
midst  of  gay  and  thoughtless  acquaintances,  to  set  an  ex 
ample  of  such  Christian  plainness  and  simplicity  of  life,  as 
we  both  believe  to  be  necessary  in  such  a  situation. 

"  I  am  much  pleased  to  hear  that  Mr.  Arnold  is  preach 
ing  at  St.  Karnabas':  he  is  a  man  for  whose  piety  I 
have  the  highest  respect,  and  his  manners  are  so  winning, 
that  I  am  sure  he  will  fix  the  attention  and  win  the  af 
fection  of  many  of  his  hearers.  Tell  Frank  that  he  must 
be  ready  to  remove  to  Holmwood  early  in  June,  and  be. 


184  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

diligent  in  his  studies  that  he  may  honor  his  present  in 
structress. 

"  I  most  sincerely  hope  that  my  poor  friend  Harry  Mel* 
ville  comes  often  to  see  you.  If  he  does  not,  please  send  for 
him.  The  sense  of  his  own  nnworthiness  makes  him  diffi 
dent  of  the  good-will  of  others,  and  I  am  sure  that  your 
society  will  do  him  good.  The  more  I  see  of  Agnes,  the 
deeper  is  my  sympathy  in  his  disappointment.  She  says, 
that  in  his  most  thoughtless  days,  he  always  manifested  the 
same  candor  and  warmth  of  heart. 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  had  told  you  nothing  that  I  wished.  No 
sorrow  has  ever  made  self-command  so  difficult  as  this  un 
looked-for  joy.  I  am  thrown  so  entirely  off  my  guard  that 
every  avenue  to  temptation  seems  open.  No  wonder  that, 
in  the  Litany,  the  time  of  our  prosperity  is  ranked  with 
those  solemn  periods  of  existence  when  we  have  most  rea 
son  to  say,  fc  Good  Lord,  deliver  us.'  Such  is  the  perpetual 
prayer  of  my  heart  as  I  feel  those  tendrils  turning  earth 
ward  which  have,  hitherto,  been  seeking  a  divine  support. 
So  fearful  am  I  becoming  of  the  temptations  of  this  life,  that 
I  almost  wish  to  leave  it  now,  and  await  in  a  better  lancl 
the  fulfilment  of  those  wishes  which  here  are  so  dangerous 
to  the  peace  of  my  soul.  You,  my  dear  friend,  who  have 
felt  the  stunning  effects  of  a  separation  from  a  being  you  so 
tenderly  loved,  will  not  wonder  that  on  this  my  'harvest 
crown  of  happiness  there  should  be  something  like  a  tear.' 
You,  I  am  sure,  would  never  tell  me  to  lay  these  fears 
aside,  and  give  myself  wholly  up  to  the  present,  but  would 
rather  quote  the  words  of  the  Apostle,  and  entreat  me  with 
heartfelt  earnestness  to  rejoice,  as  though  I  rejoiced  not, 
and  to  use  this  world  as  not  abusing  it,  for  the  fashion  of  it 
passeth  away. 

"  To  all  your  little  ones  commend  me  with  much  love. 
Agnes  has  already  formed  an  attachment  for  them,  and  a 
most  tender  regard  for  their  beloved  mother.  I  long  to  see 
you  togethery  for  I  know  that  your  hearts  will  mingle  at  once. 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  185 

"With  the  permission  of  Providence,  I  shall  return 
early  in  May.  Till  then,  and  ever,  I  commit  you  to  the 
keeping  of  our  heavenly  Father,  and  remain, 

"  With  the  purest  affection,  your  friend, 

"HEKBEKT  ATHEBTON," 

The  morning  after  the  receipt  of  this  epistle, 
Mr.  James  Waterford  called  to  see  his  sister. 

"  I  suppose  you  know,5'  he  said,  with  evident 
satisfaction,  "that  Mr.  Atherton  has  accepted 
the  rectorship  of  our  parish,  and  that  he  is,  with 
Divine  permission,  to  take  charge  of  it  on  the 
first  Sunday  after  Easter.  I  heard  some  weeks 
since  that  there  was  reason  to  believe  that  he 
might  bring  back  a  lady  with  him  to  share  and 
lighten  his  cares,  and  therefore  proposed  at  the 
last  vestry  meeting  that  the  rectory  should  be 
furnished  before  it  was  occupied.  What  do  you 
think  of  that,  Mary?" 

"  Excellent !"  exclaimed  his  sister,  with  great 
enthusiasm.  "  I  have  been  wondering  how  we 
should  manage  to  get  it  fitted  up  for  his  recep 
tion.  Rumor  is  for  once  correct,  and  Mr.  Ather 
ton  will  bring  back  a  bride ;  but  as  she  has  little 
fortune  at  command,  and  Herbert  none,  I  could 
not  well  see  where  the  funds  were  to  be  procured. 
I  should  have  offered  to  have  advanced  part  of 
them  myself;  but  I  knew  that  it  would  give  them 

16* 


HERBERT  ATrtERTON* 

both  pain  should  they  discover  that  it  cost  me 
any  sacrifice  to  provide  for  their  comfort.  Now 
the  way  is  clear,  and  they  will  find  a  sweet  home 
all  in  readiness  for  their  reception." 

"  I  hope  so,"  responded  Mr.  Waterford.  "  I 
have  come  this  very  morning  to  ask  your  aid  in 
selecting  such  furniture  as  you  think  would  please 
our  new  rector.  From  his  refined  appearance 
and  manners,  I  fancy  that  he  has  been  used  to 
something  more  than  comfort,  and  will  need  a 
few  little  elegancies  to  make  him  feel  quite  at 
home,  especially  after  living  with  you,  Mary." 

Mrs.  Waterford  smiled  at  this  idea. 

"  Herbert  has  been  accustomed,"  she  said,  "  it 
is  true,  to  the  luxuries  of  life ;  but  he  has  very 
rigid  ideas  with  regard  to  Christian  plainness  and 
simplicity  of  living,  and  especially  of  the  duty  of 
a  clergyman  to  set  an  example  in  this  respect. 
Were  the  rectory  to  be  furnished  with  any  attempt 
at  elegance,  he  would  only  grieve  to  see  money 
thus  wasted." 

"  Well,  now  I  like  that,"  said  Mr.  Waterford, 
warmly.  "  I  am  beginning  to  think,  Mary,  that 
you  are  not  so  far  out  of  the  way  in  considering 
Mr.  Atherton  quite  a  paragon.  I  hope  that  I 
shall  not  be  disappointed  in  the  high  opinion  that 
I  have  formed  of  his  character.  The  vestry  are 


HERBERT  ATIJERTON.  187 

all  so  pleased  with  what  they  hear  of  him,  that 
they  are  anxious  to  do  every  thing  in  their  power 
for  his  comfort.  They  have  already  raised  a 
thousand  dollars  to  furnish  the  rectory,  and  if 
more  is  wanted  I  am  willing  to  supply  the  defi 
ciency." 

"  I  hope  that  we  shall  be  able  to  procure  every 
thing  needful  for  that  sum,  as  I  presume  that 
you  only  intend  to  place  such  articles  in  the  rec 
tory  as  will  be  fixtures.  Mrs.  Atherton  will  no 
doubt  prefer  to  provide  her  own  table-furniture 
and  linen ;  and  as  she  is  an  only  child,  I  pre 
sume  that  she  has  in  her  possession  that  which 
belonged  to  her  mother.  I  will  go  out  with  you 
on  this  pleasant  errand  as  soon  as  I  have  heard 
Frank's  lessons.  I  know  that  he  will  be  expedi 
tious  when  he  learns  the  nature  of  my  engage 
ment,  so  that  if  you  come  for  me  in  two  hours,  I 
shall  probably  be  at  leisure." 

Mrs.  Waterford's  judgment  was  as  good  as  her 
heart  was  warm,  and  in  a  few  weeks  the  rectory 
at  Holmwood  was  furnished  in  the  most  refined 
taste,  but  with  beautiful  simplicity. 

"  This  study  would  be  complete  now,  if  these 
bookcases  were  only  filled,"  she  said,  "as  she 
stood  looking  around  the  room  especially  devoted 
to  the  new  rector  with  great  complacency.  Her- 


188  HERBERT    ATIIERTOM. 

bert  is  not  likely  to  be  able  to  purchase  a  library 
very  soon ;  for  if  he  ever  does  buy  a  book,  he 
always  gives  it  away  to  the  first  person  he  meets 
to  whom  it  may  be  of  service." 

"  We  shall  have  to  put  some  green  curtains 
over  the  shelves  to  hide  their  emptiness,  said 
Mr.  Waterford,  smiling,  "  or  buy  a  set  of  wooden 
books  to  look  respectable." 

"Now  don't  laugh  about  it,  James, "  said  Mrs* 
Waterford,  who  felt  annoyed  at  the  dilemma  in 
which  she  was  placed  by  the  poverty  of  the  new 
rector.  She  remained  silent  for  some  moments, 
while  adjusting  the  portraits  of  the  four  oldest 
American  Bishops,  with  which  she  had,  herself, 
adorned  the  walls,  and  then  asked  with  great 
earnestness,  "  Did  you  not  say  that  a  considera 
ble  sum  had  been  raised  for  the  purchase  of  a 
parish  library?" 

"  Certainly,  but  how  will  that  obviate  your 
difficulty  ?  You  do  not  wish  me  to  sequestrate 
that  fund,  my  dear  Mary,  do  you  ?" 

"  !N"o,  only  make  it  serve  two  purposes,"  she 
said,  eagerly.  "  Who  could  be  a  better  librarian 
than  Mr.  Atherton  ?  and  where  could  be  a  more 
suitable  place  for  the  books  to  be  kept  than 
at  the  Eectory?  The  clergyman  could  thus,  in 
a  degree,  regulate  the  reading  of  the  people, 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  189 

and  become  acquainted  with  their  wants  and 
tastes." 

"  You  ladies  have  always  a  way  of  making 
whatever  you  wish  appear  so  plausible,  that  you 
are  very  hard  to  deal  with,"  rejoined  Mr.  "Water- 
ford.  "The  library  is  not  yet  purchased,  and 
ought  to  be  selected  with  deliberation  and  care ; 
so  that  at  all  events  these  bookcases  would  have 
to  remain  empty  for  the  present." 

"  But  that  is  no  matter,"  she  replied  with 
great  animation.  "  Herbert  could  select  the  books 
as  they  were  required,  adding  from  time  to  time 
such  valuable  theological  works  as  might  be 
useful  to  himself,  or  to  any  one  who  might  suc 
ceed  him  in  the  rectorship.  A  minister  always 
needs  a  good  library  as  much  as  his  people  do, 
and  most  of  our  clergymen  enter  upon  their  pro 
fessional  duties  without  any  money  at  their  com* 
mand,  and  have  afterwards  such  limited  salaries, 
that  the  purchase  of  books  is  a  heavy  item  of 
expense.  It  would  be  an  excellent  plan  to  have 
a  library  of  standard  works  part  of  the  furniture 
of  every  rectory,  and  I  do  not  see  why  such  a 
one  could  not  be  united  with  that  intended  for 
the  use  of  the  parish." 

"  You  decidedly  think  that  you  have  hit  upon 
a  capital  idea,  Mary,"  said  Mr.  Waterford,  who, 


190  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

though  amused  at  his  sister's  enthusiasm,  re 
spected  her  judgment  most  sincerely.  "  But  how 
think  you  that  Mrs.  Atherton  would  like  having 
her  husband's  study  invaded  by  his  parishioners 
whenever  they  were  in  need  of  a  book  from  the 
library  ?" 

"  Now,  James,  don't  put  up  any  more  men  of 
straw  for  me  to  knock  down.  Herbert  would  never 
choose  a  wife  who  would  make  the  slightest  ob 
jection  to  any  plan  for  his  comfort,  or  the  good 
of  his  parishioners.  I  shall  rely  upon  your  pro 
posing  at  the  next  vestry  meeting,  to  appoint  the 
rector  librarian  of  the  parish  library,  and  to  have 
it  placed  in  his  study." 

Although  the  rectory  was  now  furnished,  it 
needed  for  its  completeness  those  little  articles 
of  personal  property  which  give  to  every  dwell 
ing  a  home-like  character.  Mrs.  "Waterford  had 
placed  a  pretty  work-basket,  filled  with  imple 
ments  for  sewing  and  knitting  upon  the  tasteful 
little  stand  which  adorned  one  corner  of  the 
parlor,  and  some  neatly  bound  volumes  upon  the 
table  between  the  low  window-seats ;  but  still 
there  was  one  spot  in  the  room  which  looked 
unfurnished.  She  sat  down  upon  a  couch, 
covered  with  neat  chintz,  matching  exactly  the 
green  carpet,  which  was  of  the  most  delicate 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  191 

and  graceful  pattern,  and  looked  disconsolately 
at  what  seemed  to  her  a  desolate-looking  recess 
in  the  pretty  parlor. 

Just  at  this  crisis  the  door  opened,  and  Harry 
Melville  entered,  as  if  he  were  not  aware  that  the 
house  was  occupied  by  any  one  but  himself.  He 
looked  very  much  embarrassed,  and  apologized 
heartily  for  the  intrusion. 

"I  came,"  he  said,  "on  what  was  intended  to 
be  a  secret  errand,  but  I  shall  have  to  take  you 
into  my  confidence  to  apologize  for  my  rudeness." 

Mrs.  Waterford  assured  him  that  no  such  pen 
ance  would  be  necessary.  But  he  persisted  in 
telling  her  the  object  of  his  visit,  as  he  needed 
her  counsel  and  taste. 

"I  have  been  wishing,"  he  said,  "to  place 
some  memorial  of  my  gratitude  in  Mr.  Atherton's 
new  home,  and  thought  perhaps  that  a  parlor 
organ  might  not  be  an  unacceptable  gift.  Miss 
Cameron  is  a  fine  musician,  and  must,  I  am  sure, 
be  fond  of  an  instrument  appropriated  to  sacred 
melodies.  Do  you  think  that  there  would  be 
room  here  for  any  thing  of  the  kind  ?" 

"  Just  the  thing  I  should  have  wished,"  said 
Mrs.  Waterford  warmly.  "  I  wonder  that  I  did 
not  think  of  it  before.  It  was  the  want  of  some 
musical  instrument  that  made  this  room  look  so 


192  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

empty.  I  was  looking  at  that  very  recess,  and 
wishing  that  I  had  some  larger  article  of  furni 
ture  to  put  into  it." 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  Harry,  in  a  less  constrained 
manner,  "  that  my  proposal  meets  your  approba 
tion;  but  you  must  not  tell  Mr.  Atherton  that 
the  organ  was  not  placed  here  with  the  rest  of 
the  furniture." 

Mrs.  Waterford  hesitated.  "  What  shall  I  tell 
him  if  he  asks  the  name  of  the  donor?"  she  said, 
"  for  I  am  sure  that  he  will  know  that  the  parish 
did  not  indulge  in  any  such  extravagance.  It  is 
very  hard  work  for  me  to  keep  pleasant  secrets." 

"  You  need  only  say,"  replied  Harry,  with 
much  feeling,  "that  it  was  a  person  who  was 
deeply  indebted  to  him.  I  shall  not  be  designated 
by  that  description,  for  there  are  hundreds  to 
whom  it  would  apply." 

"  Well,  I  will  try  and  not  betray  your  confi 
dence,"  said  Mrs.  Waterford.  "  I  appreciate  the 
feeling  which  thus  seeks  expression,  and  I  am 
sure  that  any  token  of  affection  from  you  would 
give  Herbert  inexpressible  pleasure." 

A  few  days  after  this  conversation  a  very  neat 
and  tasteful  organ  arrived  at  the  rectory,  and 
Mrs.  Waterford  then  thought  that  every  thing 
had  been  procured  which  was  necessary  to  the 


HERBERT   ATHEBTON.  193 

comfort  of  its  new  inmates.  She  wrote  to  Her 
bert  to  that  effect,  and  proposed,  as  she  knew  it 
would  be  more  agreeable  to  him,  that  he  should 
take  possession  of  his  new  residence  as  soon  as 
he  returned  from  the  South.  "The  proposal, 
perhaps,  may  not  seem  a  polite  one  from  me,"  she 
said ;  "  but  I  waive  my  claims  to  a  visit  in  favor 
of  a  plan  which  I  am  sure  you  would  prefer,  and 
shall  hope  to  welcome  you  to  the  rectory  with  the 
returning  birds  of  spring." 
17 


HERBERT   ATHERTON. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

HOLMWOOD    RECTORY. 

"  Since  God  doth  often  vessels  make 
Of  lowly  matter  for  high  uses  meet, 
I  throw  me  at  his  feet."— HEEBEKT. 

A  NEW  home !  How  full  of  meaning  are  these 
simple  words  !  A  place  where  the  soul  must  be 
trained  for  eternity,  and  where  it  may  encounter 
its  sorest  trials  and  its  dearest  joys.  Surely 
the  Christian's  dwelling  ought  to  be  a  temple 
in  which  there  is  perpetually  offered  a  holy 
living  sacrifice  unto  God.  "What  is  his  whole 
life  but  a  continuous  act  of  service,  which 
should  consecrate  every  home  in  which  he  may 
dwell? 

Such  were  the  thoughts  of  Mrs.  Waterford,  as 
she  sat,  in  the  twilight  of  a  pleasant  evening  in 
May,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  new  inmates  of 
Holmwood  rectory.  Every  thing  was  prepared 
for  their  reception,  and  tea  was  in  readiness  to  be 
served  as  soon  as  they  should  appear. 

As  the  evening  shadows  grew  darker,  a  spirit- 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  195 

ual  presence  seemed  to  fill  the  vacant  house,  and 
mournful  memories  thronged  to  the  mind  of  its 
lonely  occupant.  She  remembered  the  time 
when  she  herself,  a  happy  bride,  had  first  entered 
a  new  home.  How  little  she  then  dreamed  of  all 
which  had  since  befallen  her !  and  yet,  in  each 
sorrowful  event  of  her  life,  mercy  had  tempered 
judgment. 

Mrs.  Waterford  was  interrupted  in  these  mourn 
ful  reflections  by  the  sound  of  an  approaching 
carriage,  and,  forgetting  her  own  grief  in  sym 
pathy  with  the  joy  of  others,  she  flew  to  the  door 
to  welcome  the  travellers. 

Herbert  sprang  to  the  ground,  and,  after  greet 
ing  her  with  the  affection  of  a  son,  lifted  his 
young  wife  from  the  carriage,  and  presented  her 
to  his  friend,  saying, 

"  Here  is  my  precious  Agnes,  who  has  already 
learned  to  love  my  second  mother." 

The  warm  kiss  and  tender  embrace  with  which 
she  was  received  were  too  much  for  the  already 
overflowing  heart  of  the  fair  bride.  She  followed 
her  husband  into  the  house  with  a  tottering  step, 
and  the  moment  that  she  entered  the  home 
like  looking  parlor,  threw  herself  into  his  arms, 
and  wept  like  a  child.  Herbert  led  her  gently 
to  the  couch,  and  sat  folding  her  to  his  breast 


196  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

with  a  look  of  unspeakable  tenderness  and 
affection. 

This  scene  was  more  than  Mrs.  Waterford 
could  bear.  She  quietly  stole  from  the  room, 
and  sought  some  place  where  she  might  shed  in 
secret  the  tears  which  never  more  could  be  wiped 
awa^y  by  the  hand  of  a  loving  husband. 

"  What  is  it  that  overcomes  you  thus  ?"  asked 
Herbert,  as  the  sweet  face  which  had  been  hid 
in  his  bosom  was  lifted  up  to  his  own,  with  an 
expression  of  child-like  dependence. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  unworthy  and  so  blest !"  said 
Agnes,  smiling  through  her  tears. 

A  closer  pressure  of  that  clasping  arm  was  the 
only  reply,  for  Herbert  was  struggling  with  the 
same  melting  thought. 

There  was  a  long  pause  broken  only  by  the 
throbbing  of  full  hearts,  which  could  find  no 
utterance  for  their  deep  emotions. 

"We  call  this  our  home,"  said  Herbert,  at 
last,  with  tender  seriousness ;  "  but  we  must 
never  forget,  Agnes,  that  it  has  been  prepared 
for  our  use  by  God's  people,  because  we  are  to 
minister  to  them  of  spiritual  things ;  and  is,  there 
fore,  in  a  peculiar  manner  devoted  to  his  service. 
Let  us  try  and  view  it  as  an  outer  court  of  the 
temple,  which  we  are  permitted  to  occupy  while 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  197 

attending  upon  its  worship.  I  include  you, 
dearest,  with  myself  in  my  holy  office,  because 
though  its  active  labors  will  devolve  upon  me,  I 
shall  look  to  you  for  aid  and  encouragement  in 
preparing  myself  for  every  duty." 

"  You  will  lean  upon  a  reed,"  said  Agnes, 
pensively,  while  her  eyes  filled  and  her  cheek 
glowed  with  emotion.  She  was  indeed  a  fragile 
being,  the  blood  flushing  and  fading  in  her 
transparent  face  with  every  change  of  thought 
and  feeling. 

"  I  will  try  and  not  lean  so  heavily  as  to  crush 
you,  my  beloved,"  he  said  fondly,  "  and  I  trust 
that  we  shall  support  each  other.  It  seems  to 
me  that  I  shall  be  able  to  bear  much  more,  now 
that  I  have  some  one  to  whom  I  may  safely 
communicate  the  plans  and  cares  which  were 
once  so  oppressive.  It  will  not  be  violating  the 
confidence  of  others  to  share  it  with  my  own 
precious  wife,  and  your  woman's  tact  will  be 
invaluable  in  pointing  out  means  for  their  en 
couragement  and  relief.  We  are  very  comforta 
ble  here,"  he  added,  looking  around  the  pleasant 
room  with  a  gratified  air.  "  I  like  this  furniture 
because  it  is  not  only  tasteful,  but  enduring,  so 
that  it  may  serve  equally  well  for  those  who  shall 

come  after  us.     We  must  take  excellent  care  of 
17* 


198  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

these  loans,  Agnes,  that  they  may  be  transmitted 
to  our  successors  uninjured,  when  we  shall  need 
them  no  more." 

The  expression  of  the  young  clergyman's 
fine  countenance  showed  that  he  was  thinking 
of  the  time  when  they  should  enter  into  pos 
session  of  a  "  house  not  made  with  hands,  eter 
nal  in  the  heavens." 

"My  spirit  cannot  always  keep  pace  with 
yours,"  said  Agnes,  somewhat  sadly,  as  she  saw 
the  celestial  peace  with  which  her  husband's  soul 
was  filled  by  this  animating  thought.  "  Earth  is 
very  pleasant  to  me  now,  and  I  do  not  like  to 
think  at  this  moment  how  soon  we  may  be  called 
upon  to  leave  it." 

"  Ah,  dearest,"  he  replied  tenderly,  "  it  will 
not  always  be  thus.  You  will  learn  to  feel  by 
and  by,  as  all  God's  children  do  in  due  time, 
that  you  are  a  stranger  and  sojourner  upon  earth, 
and  to  look  joyfully  towards  that  city  which 
hath  foundations,  whose  builder  and  maker  is 
God.  We  cannot  now  tell  by  what  teaching  we 
shall  be  fitted  for  that  holy  habitation ;  but  I 
trust  that  whenever  our  summons  comes,  we  shall 
hear  it  with  rejoicing." 

When  Mrs.  Waterford  returned  to  the  parlor, 
she  found  that  Agnes  had  laid  aside  her  hat  and 


HERBERT    ATHERTON.  199 

shawl,  and  was  running  her  fingers  over  the  keys 
of  the  new  organ  with  evident  pleasure.  "  I  am 
very  fond  of  this  instrument,"  said  the  young 
wife,  "  and  so  glad  to  find  it  here.  Am  I  in 
debted  for  this  pleasure  to  any  particular  per 
son,  or  is  it  a  fixture,  like  the  rest  of  the  fur 
niture  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Waterford,  smiling,  "  it  was 
placed  here  for  your  especial  use  as  a  token  of 
gratitude,  from  a  person  who  is  deeply  indebted 
to  your  husband.  Pray  ask  me  no  further  ques 
tions,  for  I  am  forbidden  to  mention  the  name  of 
the  donor." 

A  glance  of  quick  intelligence  passed  between 
Herbert  and  his  wife,  for  the  same  suspicion  had 
flashed  through  both  their  minds. 

"  Poor  Harry  !  That  was  so  like  him,"  ex 
claimed  the  former.  "  He  knows  how  fond  you 
are  of  music,  Agnes,  and  that  I  could  not  at 
present  afford  to  gratify  your  taste.  How  I  long 
to  see  him  !" 

"Mr.  Melville  was  here  a  short  time  before 
your  arrival,  looking  so  well  that  I  doubt  whether 
you  would  have  known  him,"  said  Mrs.  Water- 
ford.  "He  is  studying  very  hard,  I  hear,  and 
leads  a  most  consistent  life." 

"  God     be     thanked !"     ejaculated     Herbert, 


200  HERBERT   ATHERTON. 

with  deep  feeling.  "He  was  lost,  and  he  is 
found." 

Here  was  a  pause  for  some  moments,  which 
was  interrupted  by  Mrs.  Waterford's  saying,  "  I 
quite  forgot  that  I  came  hither  to  you  to  an 
nounce  that  tea  was  ready.  Allow  me  to  show 
you  the  way  to  the  dining-room." 

When  the  first  happy  meal  at  the  rectory  was 
concluded,  Agnes  accompanied  Mrs.  Waterford 
in  an  exploration  of  the  house,  and  was  made 
acquainted  with  its  different  arrangements  for 
her  convenience  and  comfort. 

"  And  now,"  said  her  kind  friend,  as  they  re 
turned  to  the  parlor,  "  I  must  leave  you,  my  dear 
child,  for  Frank  will  be  quite  in  despair  at  my  pro 
longed  stay.  Herbert  has,  I  presume,  found  the 
way  to  his  study.  Bid  him  good  night  for  me, 
and  tell  him  that  I  shall  be  here  to-morrow  to 
aid  you  in  receiving  such  of  your  parishioners 
as  shall  then  pay  their  respects.  I  thought 
that  you  would  prefer  to  be  quite  alone  this 
evening." 

Agnes  smiled  a  grateful  acquiescence,  and 
warmly  returned  the  parting  salutation  of  her 
new  friend.  Then  she  seated  herself  in  one  of 
the  low  window-seats,  and  gave  herself  up  to  her 
own  sweet  thoughts. 


HERBERT  ATHERTON.  20l 

Herbert  had,  as  Mrs.  Waterford  suspected, 
found  his  way  to  the  room  appropriated  to  his 
own  especial  use.  His  eye  fell  upon  the  writing 
materials  which  had  been  placed  upon  the  table 
to  give  the  study  an  inhabited  air,  and  he  thought 
to  what  purpose  they  would  be  applied.  Here 
would  the  sermons  be  written  upon  which  might 
hang  the  destiny  of  myriads  of  immortal  souls. 
Here,  must  his  own  spirit  be  prepared  for  the 
guidance  of  those  who  were  placed  under  his 
charge.  His  whole  subsequent  usefulness  might 
depend  upon  the  manner  in  which  he  improved 
the  hours  here  spent.  In  this  place  he  was  to 
receive  the  messages  which  he  must  proclaim  to 
the  world.  His  whole  future  life,  with  its  mo 
mentous  responsibility,  seemed  spread  out  before 
his  view. 

"  Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things  ?"  was 
his  mental  ejaculation,  as  he  took  a  rapid  sur 
vey  of  the  difficulties  which  beset  the  path  of 
every  faithful  ambassador  of  Christ.  He  had 
studied  his  own  heart  faithfully,  and  knew  its 
deep  depravity,  and  therefore  it  was  that  he 
sometimes  labored  almost  without  hope,  in  try 
ing  to  wake  the  slumbering  souls  of  his  fellow- 
men.  Would  any  of  his  parishioners  rise  up  in 
the  judgment-day  to  condemn  him,  and  their 


202  HERBERT    ATHERTON. 

blood  be  upon  his  head  ?  This  was  a  terrible 
question.  Even  the  faithful  discharge  of  hia 
ministry  might  add  to  the  guilt  of  some,  who 
would  see,  but  perceive  not,  and  hear  what  they 
made  no  effort  to  understand. 

It  was  not  singular  that,  overwhelmed  with  a 
sense  of  the  responsibility  with  which  he  was  in, 
trusted,  Herbert  fell  upon  his  knees,  and  poured 
out  his  very  soul  in  prayer.  He  was  conscious 
of  no  presence  in  the  universe  but  that  of  his 
Maker,  and  no  relationship  but  that  which  ex 
isted  between  a  merciful  God  and  his  frail  am 
bassador  to  a  ruined  world.  Wrapt  in  devotion, 
he  pleaded,  with  a  broken  voice,  that  while  he 
preached  to  others,  he  might  not  himself  be  a 
castaway. 

It  was  long  before  the  earnest  supplicant  for 
divine  grace  became  aware  that  some  one  was 
kneeling  at  his  side.  With  half  unconsciousness, 
he  passed  his  arm  around  the  slight  figure  of  his 
young  wife,  and  commending  her  also  to  the 
mercy  of  their  heavenly  Father,  fervently  asked 
that  they  might  both  view  their  union  only  as  a 
means  of  advancing  his  glory. 
.  We  cannot  accompany  the  devoted  clergyman 
in  his  subsequent  career  of  usefulness.  With  an 
earnest  heart  and  an  eye  fixed  upon  heaven,  he 


HERBERT   ATHERTON.  203 

continued  "  in  the  morning  to  sow  his  seed,  and 
in  the  evening  to  withhold  not  his  hand,"  looking 
for  no  harvest-time  till  the  angels  should  gather 
their  sheaves  into  the  garner  of  the  Lord.  Where 
there  was  the  greatest  spiritual  dearth,  he  yet 
found  some  green  spot  beside  a  scanty  brook, 
where  a  seed  might  be  dropped  in  faith,  though 
he  never  again  might  pass  that  way  to  discover 
whether  it  had  germinated.  Sorrow  came  to  his 
home  and  to  his  heart,  and  death  carried  from 
his  arms  his  first-born  son ;  but  even  beside  its 
dark  flood,  he  fearlessly  cast  in  the  grain.  No 
human  being,  while  life  lasted,  was  too  depraved 
to  enlist  his  earnest  sympathy,  and  to  claim  his 
hopes,  his  efforts,  and  his  prayers. 

The  sanctified  spirit  of  Herbert  Atherton  was 
dismissed  from  its  frail  tenement  at  the  same 
early  age  at  which  his  Saviour  terminated  his 
earthly  career  of  love  and  mercy.  Like  him,  he 
was  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief; 
for  through  him,  he  was  appointed  to  offer  con 
tinual  intercession  for  the  sins  of  a  dying  world. 
And  now  he  sleeps  in  peace,  with  his  faithful 
wife  at  his  side ;  but  the  land  is  white  with  the 
harvests  that  they  planted  together.  "What  is  it 
to  them  that  they  sometimes  went  forth  weeping 
to  sow  their  seed,  if,  when  the  ransomed  of  the 


HERBERT  ATHERTON. 

Lord  shall  return  to  Zion,  they  come  again  re 
joicing,  bringing  their  sheaves  with  them  ? 

"Blessed  indeed  are  ye  who  sow  beside  all 
waters  !" 


THE  END, 


BEAUTIFUL  JUVENILE  BOOKS. 

(Dlft    38Utt'0   lame. 

"  This  is  a  narrative  of  an  '  Old  Man'  of  ninety-six  years, 
whom  the  writer  first  meets  in  a  romantic  dell,  on  the  coast 
of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  in  whose  mind  the  one  all-engross- 
ing  thought,  which  took  complete  possession  of  every  feeling 
and  sympathy  of  his  nature,  was  that  of  his  final  Home 
His  residence  in  the  asylum  for  half  a  century,  his  literal  iu 
terpretation  of  the  precepts  and  promises  of  God's  Holj 
Word,  his  reputed  insanity,  his  allegorical  conversation,  his 
attachment  to  '  little  Annie,'  his  past  history  and  bereave 
ments,  his  death,  and  his  resting-place  in  the  church-yard, 
are  incidents  which  the  gifted  author  has  woven  into  a  story 
told  with  great  simplicity  and  effect.  The  illustrations  of  the 
engraver  are  as  tastefully  executed  as  the  designs  (which  are 
original  with  the  Union)  are  happily  conceived.  We  are 
not  surprised  at  the  popularity  of  Mr.  Adams'  books." 

[Church  Review. 

*  *  *  *  *  "  If  it  is  not  true,  there  is  an  air  of  truth 
about  it  which  is  unequalled  except  by  De  Foe.  But  whether 
truth  or  fiction,  it  is  one  of  the  most  instructive  little  books 
we  know  of;  and  one,  to  the  tendencies  of  which  we  can 
give  the  most  unreserved  recommendation." 

[True  Catholic. 

"  «  The  Old  Man's  Home'  is  by  the  author  of  '  The  Shadow 
of  the  Cross,'  and  may  well  take  place  by  its  side  as  a  com 
panion  volume.  The  title  plainly  indicates  the  subject 
Devoid  of  the  slightest  approach  to  rant  or  turgidity,  the 
touching  and  simple  story  is  told  with  much  purity  and  grace 
of  style  ;  and  the  interest  which  is  early  excited,  is  sustained, 
without  flagging,  to  the  very  last  page.  Let  a  book  like  this 
be  put  into  the  hands  of  a  child,  and  we  have  no  fear  of  the 
result."  [Literary  World 

cn 


BEAUTIFUL    JUVENILE    BOOKS. 


44  We  have  before  us  a  little  work  entitled,  '  The  Distaul 
Hills  ;  An  Allegory,'  frorn  the  press  of  the  General  Protest. 
ant  Episcopal  Sunday-School  Union,  whose  Depository  is  at 
Number  20  John-street.  It  is  a  most  touching  and  tender 
allegory,  and  is  altogether  worthy  of  its  predecessor,  '  The 
Shadow  of  the  Cross.'  Qver  the  pages  of  these  narratives 
there  is  shed  an  aroma  of  purity,  suited  to  the  pictures  which 
they  so  exquisitely  paint.  Indeed,  the  pictures  themselves 
seem  to  be  rather  breathed  than  painted.  We  know  not  how 
to  express  our  sincere  admiration,  as  we  believe  it  would  be 
impossible  to  meet  with  works  of  this  kind  more  charmingly 
conceived  and  finished.  They  ought  to  be  widely  circulated 
among  the  young,  in  whose  pure  hearts  they  would  be  en 
graved  indelibly  in  days  when  the  feverish  novel  would  in 
terest  them  no  more.  As  allegories  they  possess  the  highest 
merit.  The  outlines  are  distinct,  the  accessories  replete  with 
classic  grace,  and  the  embodiment  of  the  truth  palpable. 
The  Distant  Hills,  bedecked  with  green  and  rife  with 
melody  ;  the  Crumbling  Ruin,  crawled  over  by  the  green 
lizard,  and  given  to  decay  ;  these  are  symbols  which  a  child?  * 
heart  may  interpret,  and  over  which  a  man's  eyes  may  weep. 
And  it  is  delightful  to  see  ever  in  the  foreground  of  the  pic 
tures,  whether  meandering  in  the  meadow  or  gushing  from 
the  rock,  the  purifying  waters  of  the  flood,  over  which 

-  '  The  eternal  dove 
Hovers  on  softest  wing.' 

"  For  the  Christian  parent,  these  works,  so  pure  and  happy 
In  influence,  so  exquisite  in  embellishment,  so  compressed  in 
compass,  are  most  desirable  for  gifts.  They  would  be  re 
ceived  with  smiles,  and  perused  with  tears,  and  gratitude 
would  be  returned  by  the  intermingling  of  both." 

I  Knickerbocker,  Oct.,  1849. 


BEAUTIFUL  JUVENILE  BOOKS 

"In  connection  with  Book  Notices,  we  cannot  forbear 
calling  public  attention  to  the  publications  of  the  Protestant 
Episcopal  Sunday-School  Union, — an  institution  intended,  of 
course,  mainly  for  the  advancement  of  the  denomination  with 
which  it  is  connected  ;  but  conducted  on  the  most  catholic 
principles  of  universal  charity;  and  with  a  degree  of  intelli 
gence  and  ability  not  always  exhibited  in  similar  organiza^ 
tions.  In  addition  to  school  books,  and  others  intended 
mainly  for  instruction,  they  have  issued  a  series  of  elegant 
Gift  Books,  very  neatly  printed,  and  sold  at  a  moderate  price. 
Some  of  these  are  Allegories,  tales,  and  personal  or  historical 
sketches;  and  ar<;  not  only  sound  in  Christian  sentiment,  and 
in  the  influence  they  exert,  but  are  among  the  most  admir 
rably  winning  and  attractive  books  we  have  ever  seen.  &])£ 
<8Ht>  fail's  J^omc— to  characterize  all  by  reference  to  one, 
is  one  of  the  most  pathetic  and  touching  little  books  we  have 
ever  read;  exquisitely  delicate  in  conception  and  simple  in 
style.  The  whole  series  is  of  the  same  character,  and  forma 
one  of  the  most  delightful  collections  of  the  kind  ever  issued. 
No  greater  service  could  be  rendered  to  children  than  to  fill 
their  minds  with  the  sweet  thoughts,  the  lovely  affections,  and 
the  holy  aspirations  which  flow  from  these  little  books,  like 
perfume  from  flowers.  We  ask  the  attention  of  all  who  have 
young  minds  and  hearts  to  provide  for,  to  the  publications 

of  the  Union." 

[New-York  Courier  and  Enquire* 


(8) 


BEAUTIFUL    JUVENILE    BOOKS. 


A  rery  interesting  Story,  re-published  from  the  Edition  of 
THE  SOCIETY-  FOR  PROMOTING  CHRISTIAN  KNOWLEDGE.  It 
shows  vividly  the  peril  of  yielding  to  the  temptations  wbich 
beset  our  path. 

(34) 


